Through the Gates
by Westhaven18
Summary: A king was in need of an heir for his throne. He prayed for one and got four. He prayed for their safety - and got them cursed. Thank God for these 4 young women.
1. Prologue

**Here I GOOOOO!**

Prologue

"_Mama!" cried a young girl with auburn pigtails tied up in bright ribbons, climbing up into a beautiful young woman's lap. "Will you tell me a bedtime story?"_

_The woman smiled brightly and hugged the child lovingly. "What story do you want to hear?"_

"_A love story! One with a handsome prince and a beautiful princess! And a big wedding at the end!"_

_Her mother was silent for a long moment._

_At last, she said, "I happen to know a story with several handsome, kind young princes, but there are no real princesses in the story…just stubborn young women. Do you still want to hear the story?"_

_The little girl bit her lip in deep thought. "Does…does it at least have a happily ever after at the end?"_

"_So far."_

"_Is it a good story?"_

"_I don't know I've never told this story to anyone."_

"_Oooh!" the child squealed. "A new story! Tell me, tell me!"_

"_Okay, okay," the mother chuckled. "Here goes:_

Once upon a recent time, not so very long ago according to grownups, but quite long ago by the standards of little girls, there was a great and wise warrior named Splinter.

Splinter was the king of a great country called Rosacaea, and for years and years he ruled the country fairly.

But he was getting on in years and had no family of his own… so he began to pray that he would find an heir suitable enough to train as the next king.

But as you know…the gods don't always answer our prayers how we would like them to.

King Splinter was about to be strongly reminded of this.

**I know it's short but give this a quick review.**


	2. The Little Knight

**Here we go!**

Chapter 1

The Little Knight

"_What's going on?" demanded a young boy, appearing in front of the beautiful young woman and the little girl._

"_A story!" the little girl said. "Mama's telling me a story and you're ruining it! Now be quiet!"_

_Fully chastened, the boy climbed up onto the couch with the woman and her child and sat quietly. "Please keep telling the story."_

_The woman smiled._

It started with dreams.

He dreamt of a handsome knight courting a beautiful young noblewoman. He dreamt that the knight married the beautiful woman and had a son. He dreamt that they were travelling to the knight's home. He dreamt that the two were happy.

One night, he went to bed and dreamt of the knight and his bride again. They were no longer happy.

They were surrounded by griffins – hungry, angry griffins.

The man slashed open the throat of one of the beasts, ignoring the spurting blood, and instead focused on the next attacking creature.

His wife stood a little ways away, her beautiful face tight and cold as she fired arrow after arrow from a bow.

Everything was blood and screaming and the baby was crying – _the baby. Where was the baby?!_

The woman ran out of arrows and immediately drew a slender knife from her bodice to slash at the attacking griffins, but she was being overwhelmed.

A griffin reared up behind her and plunged its wicked beak down and –

"My Lord!"

Splinter jolted from his bed. "Yes?"

One of his advisors, Lincoln, bowed low in the doorway. "Forgive me, my King, but the western griffin nests are in a frenzy, someone must have stumbled onto their nesting grounds. You can hear the screeching from the walls."

"The dream!"

"Excuse me, sire?" Lincoln looked at him blankly. "What dream?"

"Just a suspicion," Splinter muttered, reaching for a pair of clean trousers. "Gather the Royal Guard and the fastest horses that can be found. Also… have a – a woman able to nurse a young child ready at the gates when we return."

His subject blinked at him blankly, before deciding not to question the king and running off.

In less than twenty minutes, Splinter was riding out of the gates of his city with his Royal Guard, bearing toward the west and urging his horse to the farthest abilities of its speed.

After what seemed like forever, he and his companions came upon the nests. Several of his guards staggered off their horses to be sick. The horses themselves screamed in terror and pulled at reins, longing to bolt.

The griffins had been slaughtered, wings hacked off, heads tossed about like gory stones, guts strewn about. In the torch light, it looked as though they had stumbled into hell.

The smell that hung in the air was horrific, rank with the scent of rotting flesh.

Breathing heavily through his mouth, the King gave his orders, "Search for survivors. We will have to burn the griffins before other scavengers are drawn by the smell."

"Some creatures actually _like_ this smell?" hissed one of the younger guards.

"Hurry up!" snapped one of the others, a broad fellow by the name of Stephen. "Griffins are attracted to the smell of their own kind's dead flesh. The only thing that'll keep them away from us is if we burn the bodies."

And so the King and his Guard gathered the bodies by torchlight until the sky began to brighten with the dawn.

"Sire! Come look at this!"

Long human legs extended out from under the body of a griffin that looked as though it had been skewered.

It had been.

The creature must have been attempting to pounce upon the man as he was raising his sword up. The man was crushed and the griffin run through.

As his men wrestled the griffin from the man's sword, another cry went up.

"My Lord! There is another body here!"

Splinter hurried over to see and immediately felt sick.

It was the woman, blond hair dripping blood and eyes gazing vacantly off into the distance.

He moaned and ran a hand through his graying hair. He had been too late.

But where was the boy?

Hadn't there been a boy?

"Search the bushes for any clue as to their identities," he ordered. "And tell me how they died."

His men nodded and quickly dispersed to carry out his bidding.

Meanwhile, Splinter began a careful search for the child he had seen in his dreams, straining his ears for the slightest hint of a child's cry.

It wasn't until his soldiers had begun to brief him about the deaths of the couple that he discovered the boy.

"As far as we can figure, the woman died first – see these arrows? She's holding a bow; she must have run out of them and given the griffins enough time to get a jump on her… One of them slashed open her skull – it almost cleaved her open clean open. Her man must have gone completely insane and attacked them head on, you can see where he cut his hands open by clenching his sword too tightly – Wait! What was that?"

A thin cry had rung out.

Thankfully, his hearing had not yet begun to fail him and Splinter was quickly able to find the source of the crying.

The baby had been cleverly hidden in a fox's den and covered with broken tree branches.

At the moment he was screaming loudly, apparently not happy at being left alone lying in the dirt and struggling at the swaddling that surrounded him.

Splinter quickly swooped down on the tiny bundle and scooped up the little boy. His men surrounded him and stared at the child.

"Well I'll be-"

"Holy crap-"

"No way-"

"Are those his parents?"

"Must be."

"What do we do with him?"

"He comes with us."

They all stared at their king. "Sire?"

Splinter elaborated. "If no clue to their identities can be found… I will take him as my own. Does this sound acceptable to you?"

No one spoke for a long stunned moment.

Finally, his oldest and most loyal captain, Sebastian, came forward. "Then may I be the first to greet the young prince?"

By the time the sun had risen, they had burned the bodies of the griffins and buried the knight and his archeress wife. As they rode back to the castle, already tired, Splinter looked at the infant in his arms.

The child's downy hair was the color of bronze much like his mother's and great piercing brown eyes like those his father had had. At the moment, the boy was eyeing him with much more thought and curiosity than he had ever seen in an infant's eyes.

"What are you thinking?" he mused. "What secrets are you hiding behind those eyes?"

The boy suddenly smiled shyly up at him, tiny lips curling up slightly.

"You know, little one… There was once a great painter who was known for his skill in the arts. His greatest work is a painting of a woman who smiles just as you are right now. Many people have wondered what she is thinking – just as I am wondering what you are thinking. His name was Leonardo da Vinci.

"Hmm… Leonardo… 'brave lion'… Yes, I believe that name will suit you very well as I do not know what your parents called you… What do you think, Leonardo?"

The newly named Leonardo's smile was interrupted by a huge yawn.

"I am glad you approve my son. Leonardo."

**Please review! Thanks to those who gave my Prologue reviews!**


	3. The Gypsies

**An update! Yea for me! Who needs sleep?! I can do this all night. Ummm… someone tell the duck to stop telling me to go to bed. Silence evil quacker! I am the mighty Westhaven! Sleep is for mortals!**

Chapter 2

The Gypsies

"_Hey! Isn't Leonardo –"_

"_Shut up!"_

_The storyteller and her audience jumped as a skinny little girl popped out from behind the sofa they had been sitting on. She plunked her hands on her hips. "Let her tell the story!"_

_With that, the eavesdropper sat on the floor and looked up expectantly at the woman. "Go on!"_

_The woman went on._

Leonardo was welcomed into the city with much enthusiasm and, with the sole exception of the woman who nursed him, he was being raised entirely by Lord Splinter.

Which actually required a lot more than he had ever imagined. Rocking the child to sleep, carrying him around, burping him…

He found himself pulling frequent allnighters to look after his son. Not that Leonardo needed much watching; he was already sleeping through the night, but Splinter found himself unable sleep.

The dreams had returned.

But they were no longer about the knight and his lady; they seemed to now be focusing on a gypsy caravan.

He dreamt of a gypsy boy running wild with his caravan, getting into frequent fist fights. He dreamt that the stubborn young boy tried to steal a basket of fruit from another passing caravan and was immediately set upon by a fierce little girl. He dreamt that the two fought and argued, and married. He dreamt the two had a child. He dreamt that the two continued to fight and argue, and love each other.

He dreamt of the two striding along at the head of a caravan – obviously the leaders.

And then he dreamt of flames… the caravan was being ambushed.

He dreamt the man whose wife had hit him in the head with an apple was fighting like a man possessed, swinging a sword that looked too big for any man to wield expertly, even as his attackers fired arrows at him.

He dreamt the woman who had been such a wild little thing as a child slash at the men attempting to surround her with long curved knives that were as long her forearm, cutting her enemies down coolly.

He dreamt that their infant was screaming steadily from inside their wagon as it burned around him.

He dreamt the woman hurled both her knives with incredible speed and accuracy, bringing down two opponents, and ran into the wagon after her son as her husband screamed after her.

He dreamt the man spun back around – only to be hit in the neck by a well-placed arrow.

He dreamt the woman grabbed her son and wrapped him in a wet stretch of cloth and tried to get out…

Flames were everywhere… he dreamt that they were swallowing the woman and her child whole…

It was happening just outside the city walls.

He had to help!

He tried to reach out towards them – to get them out…

He ended up rolling gracelessly out of his bed with a jolt.

It took several moments for Splinter to remember where he was. He was in his room and he could hear Leonardo crying in his cradle across the hall, and the cooing of the nurse as she tried to calm him.

It seems that I was not the only one with nightmares, the king thought rather glumly, getting up and going to help.

The rest of the day was filled with petitions – mostly from artisans who were complaining about the presence of gypsies in their areas. Apparently the wandering craftsmen were offering lower prices and the majority of the artisans' normal patrons had managed to overcome their suspicion of the gypsies enough to buy their wares.

Splinter knew perfectly well that the gypsies would soon be gone in a few days, but he called the leader of the caravan in to speak with him anyway.

When the man finally entered – gypsies were notorious for ignoring set dates and appointments and arriving at whatever time pleased them – the king was bewildered.

Again.

A man from his dreams had appeared in front of him again.

Alive this time.

The man was tall with shoulders big enough for an ox and muscles that rippled beneath his skin like thick ropes. His black hair was wiry and curly and stuck out all across his forehead untidily and he was tanned dark. His eyes were dark and quick, taking in every detail of the receiving hall as though anticipating an attack.

"Good afternoon, sir," Splinter greeted politely. "May I have your name?"

"Name's Gianni," the man grunted. "S'it to you?"

He ignored the rudeness. "I merely wished to warn you. At the moment, the craftsmen of my kingdom are feeling rather threatened by those of your caravan, and they may do something rash."

Gianni laughed caustically and raised a big hand to caress the hilt of the enormous sword he wore on his back. "It'd take an army of 'em to bring down my caravan. And another to take on my wife."

The gypsy chuckled to himself. "Don't worry about us, milord. We're just here to load up on supplies for my son's naming ritual."

Splinter remembered the screaming baby in the flames and had to fight to keep his composure. "You have a son?"

"I do. Strong boy. He'll make a great caravan leader some day, so long as he didn't get his mother's temper."

"I have a son as well. Leonardo. What is your son's name?"

"Dunno yet. That's what the ritual is for. First full moon after the kid's born, we throw a party and give him his name."

"Why a full moon?"

"The strongest time for protective magic spells. Gotta start thinkin' about names too. Wife's been gettin' real jumpy about it. Won't hear of namin' it after me o'course. Says it's bad luck."

"Is it?"

"Dunno. Won't risk it. Boy'll get his own name on that night."

When Gianni left a few minutes later, Splinter ordered that guards go with him to protect the caravan even though the gypsy insisted that it wasn't necessary.

He didn't want more dead on his mind.

The day the gypsies were to leave, he rode out to their camp and met one last time with Gianni. It was at this time that he met Gianni's wife, Vittoria. She was graceful and had the slightest paunch where the precious bundle she cradled in her arms had once been. She was unusually pale for a gypsy, but her long, wild curly black hair and proud face made her look even more exotic than the other gypsy women and her huge dark amber eyes fringed with soot colored lashes made her all the more lovely.

Splinter was sure he had seen her somewhere before but could not place her.

He shook hands, wished them well, and watched as the caravans were hitched onto horses and driven away.

There, no flames or arrows or anything at all.

Disaster averted.

He was just dismounting from his horse in the palace courtyard when a breathless sentry came sprinting towards him with unwelcome news – the gypsy caravan had been ambushed and was being burned – with many still inside the wagons.

Back onto his horse he went, kneeing the beast around, the man sent his steed flying back the way they had come, guards and soldiers right behind him.

Why hadn't he assigned a battalion of soldiers to make sure the gypsies got out of his kingdom safely?

He shook himself firmly. Scolding now wouldn't help. He needed to get to the caravan.

It took little time to find the wagons once they had left the city walls, the flames were so wild now that they were threatening to catch everything else aflame too.

The caravan was a scene of slaughter on both sides.

On the outskirts of the caravan young dark-skinned gypsy children lay dead on the ground, riddled with arrows, along with elders, killed as they tried to escape. Closer to the wagons themselves, flames smoldered along the tops of the trees and they could now see figures fighting in the midst of raging tongues of fire.

As they neared the heart of the battle, Splinter saw that Gianni had been right. As many as there had been dead innocent gypsies shot dead in the surrounding woods, twice as many ambushers were lying dead here, their clothes beginning to smoke.

It took him a moment to recognize Gianni. The gruff but good-natured gypsy was gone, replaced by a ferocious giant that smashed through his enemies, slashing them almost in half with powerful swings of his sword.

Now dead gypsies were lying together with dead townsmen, obviously having died locked in battle.

About a handful of gypsies now remained, three men, including Gianni, and two tall slender women who fought just as ruthlessly as the men.

Even he urged the horse through the flames, shouting orders to his soldiers to put out the fires and search for survivors, two of the gypsies fell.

And then he heard it.

A baby's loud wailing.

A graceful figure turned and ran towards one of the wagons as yet another gypsy fell to an arrow.

Gianni turned to yell after her and then turned back to be shot in the neck.

It was his nightmare all over again.

What about the woman, Vittoria, and the child?

Were they alright?

There was a whoosh of flames as one of the burning wagons collapsed in on itself.

Of course they weren't alright! They were trapped in a burning wagon!

The infant's screams had stopped. Now there was only the crackling of flames and the harsh insane laughter of the final townsman.

He was clutching a bow and an empty quiver, rocking back and forth as he laughed and sang by turns. "The dead old gypsies tra-la-la! Gone and dead now tra-la-la! Dirty old witches tra-la-la! All must die now tra-la-"

The man froze in place, still clasping his weapons, eyes looking up in bemusement at the throwing knife now imbedded in his forehead. His eyes kept right on going up until they rolled back into his head and he collapsed.

Splinter looked around quickly for the source of the knife and felt his heart stop.

Vittoria was sitting with her back to a tree, holding her son close to her with one hand as the other hand stayed for a moment in a throwing position.

The king made it to her side in record time, though he drew back slightly when he saw that she had opened her blouse and was nursing her son.

Her strange amber eyes focused on him and the proud look she had given him as Gianni introduced them was gone and replaced by a calm expression. "You're the king who spoke with Anni."

He nodded. "And you are Vittoria, Lady of the Caravan."

She smiled quietly. "There is no caravan now. Just me now and my son. Soon it will only be my son."

Splinter eyed her in alarm. "We can help you, where are your injuries?"

She didn't answer, choosing instead to look down lovingly at the infant suckling contentedly away. Her long black curls hung around her peaceful face like some sort of a painting of the Virgin Mary. That was where he had seen her! In the same book he had seen the picture of the Mona Lisa.

After a while, she raised her eyes to his again, no longer quiet, but dangerous. Her amber eyes gleamed much like the flames his men were putting out. "You're my son's father now. Do you understand? If you don't treat him properly…" she leaned forward, eyes dancing lethally. "Hell itself won't keep me from peeling the skin and muscle from your bones."

How an injured woman could look so threatening was beyond him. "Lady Vittoria, do not move please. I am going to carry you to the healer."

She looked at him with impatience. "It's over for me. Take my son and just drop me with my husband when you deal with the bodies."

A burst of bloody coughing interrupted her tirade and Splinter took full advantage of this to lift her off the ground. To his horror, her spine shifted in two completely different directions.

He lay her quickly back down.

Further examination showed that the back of her skirt and blouse had been torn away and her skin looked as though it had been burned by a diagonal stream of flames. Her backbone was in two separate pieces.

She was dying.

"Happened when I got him out," Vittoria whispered weakly, still letting her son suckle. "The main beam burnt clean through and came down on top of me right as I was picking him up outta the cradle. Couldn't tell you how I got us outta there, but here I am."

"You are a brave woman."

"Brave, nothing. My son needed me. I did what needed to be done." She coughed again.

"Perhaps I could get you something to ease the pain? Our healer is rather gifted at painkillers."

"What's with you and healers? Just let me die beside my husband, okay?"

It took Splinter and two of his soldiers to drag the body of Gianni to his wife. The healer looked Vittoria and gave the verdict they already knew. Mortally wounded. Nothing to be done but make her comfortable.

Several of the soldiers gathered around the woman to keep her company as others moved the bodies of the gypsies into neat rows and the bodies of the tradesmen into neat lines.

She was a surprisingly able conversationalist, telling them all about her knives. "Y'can't use weapons like that to outmuscle someone, see? That's why they give those kinds'a weapons to women –"

Lady Vittoria looked down at her son who was now tugging experimentally at her ebony locks. "Buona notte, mio figlio."

And she was dead. Her head was bowed to gaze at her son, her lips still tugged into the peaceful angelic smile, her eyes half open.

Just like a Madonna portrait.

Like the ones painted by…

"Raphael."

The infant turned sharp amber eyes to the king.

Splinter mounted his horse and bent over to take his new charge from the arms of Sebastian. Raphael had not been pleased when he had been lifted away from his mother and had screamed steadily for fifteen minutes before he calmed down. Even now he was looking up at Splinter with a look of intense reproach.

"My Lord?"

"Yes Sebastian?"

His old friend nervously twisted his hands together. "I couldn't help but remember what the caravan leader said that first day, remember? He said that it would take an army to defeat the caravan?"

"I remember," Splinter said heavily.

"Well… there were about forty people in the caravan. Twenty of them were fit to fight."

"Yes?"

"There were almost a hundred tradesmen waiting to ambush them."

"Four to one odds…" he muttered. He looked down at the little boy in his arms.

The boy had his father's dark skin and his mother's intense amber eyes, and the curly black hair both his parents had left him.

"You are not going to be an easy one to handle, are you?"

**Alrighty! Finished! **

**Yes Raphael is a Gypsy, to be specific I made him a Roma – they're native to the Balkans and Central Italy which explains the names and his mother speaking Italian. FWI she says "Good night, my son".**

**Review please!**

**I'm off to bed. Stupid duck. :(**


	4. The Bronze Pin

**Who knew that college could have snow days? Yeah for blizzards!**

Chapter 3

The Bronze Pin

"_Wow, so he gots two sons now?" squeaked the first girl._

_The second girl demanded, "What's a virgin?"_

_The boy asked, "What's a gypsy?"_

_The woman merely laughed at the questions and beckoned at another boy who was shyly standing a little ways away from the storyteller and her charges. "Come here, little one, don't you want to hear the rest of the story?"_

The next month was filled with finding another woman to help nurse his two sons. This was complicated that Raphael was now looking around for his mother and screamed loud and long when he realized that none of the women who tried to approach him were his mother. It took five minutes for them to calm him down enough to nurse him. And after all of that, the women were not as eager to stay on as the new prince's nurse.

Finally a formidable woman of about thirty three with a huge bosom and a squalling infant under each arm marched into the palace and took on the cranky little gypsy. Within ninety seconds, Raphael was suckling contentedly and the many other women who had spent the last two hours trying to win the boy's favor stared on in shock.

Splinter now was trying to accustom himself to two little boys. This now meant twice the amount of crying, diapers, and lost sleep.

One good thing was that Raphael was not overly needy, though he tended to be very vocal when he was cranky, hunger, or needed to be changed. He slept through the night and was generally fairly quiet when he was content.

It also helped that he was growing very fond of the two.

A week after the gypsy massacre, Splinter woke from dreams.

Dreams about a quiet young man with ridiculously thick glasses bent low over a book the size of a cobblestone looking up at shy girl who told him softly that the library was closing. He nodded quickly and self-consciously stood up, knocking the book to the ground with a resounding thud. As he dropped to snatch the tome from the dusty floor his hand into another hand. He looked up and stared straight into the girl's eyes. Both smiled shyly at each other.

Dreams of the boy walking into the library and sitting at a table with a clear view of the main desk.

And then dreams of the two kissing and getting married, the man now a doctor and the young girl now the main librarian. Then of the woman smiling excitedly at her husband, who stared at her a long moment before laughing out loud and hugging his wife. The woman's belly swelled until she was laying an infant into a crib.

And then a month after these dreams had begun, a man slipping into their house. Blood on blankets.

Splinter woke with a strangled yell.

He winced. "Here we go again."

It took two days to find who this doctor and his wife were, with only their appearances to go on.

They were John and Mary Brass, a well known doctor and his wife who had worked as a librarian until the birth of their child.

It took another few hours to find their house and he sent a group of his men to retrieve the couple and their child. He had planned to go with them, but Raphael was apparently fed up with waiting for his mother and was screaming in the manner that even his capable nurse couldn't handle him and Splinter had to stay to see if he could quiet the boy.

Just as he was lying his now sleeping son into his cradle, his captain Sebastian walked in, looking sick and holding a small bundle.

Splinter felt his heart sink into the region of his stomach. "Well?"

"Their throats were slashed last night. The whole house was picked clean, whoever did this took everything he could carry. Except this little fellow." Sebastian offered the bundle. "I thought that since you already had two sons…and since you're the one that saw his parents die…"

The king swallowed painfully and took the little one into his arms. The tiny boy had soft pale brown eyes and downy mousy brown hair. Just like his father.

A flash caught his attention and he looked at a metal pin holding the swaddling blankets closed. It was bronze and about the size of his palm. On it was the engraved design of a rod entwined with two serpents, the crest of medicine and doctors.

"Yes, that was only thing of any material value left in the house," his captain said quietly. "It was clipped onto his blanket."

There was a moment of silence.

"What are you going to call him, my Lord?"

"I don't know. Tell me, have you found those responsible for this?"

"No my Lord, we will return to the investigation immediately."

His subject bowed and left, leaving Splinter, the new boy, and his two sons and their nurses alone.

"Leave us," he commanded the nurses. The women bowed respectfully and left.

Splinter sat on a hard wooden chair set between his sons' cradles, Leonardo on his right and Raphael on his left, and looked down at the little pair of brown eyes that peered up at him with great interest. The sheer curiosity in such a little face made him laugh. "You are an odd one, child."

The boy sneezed.

The king shifted his gaze to the pin. It truly was a handsome thing… He unclipped it from the blanket and examined it more carefully.

"Your father must have a good practice to afford such a thing," he commented to the boy in his lap who was snatching his hand in the air as though trying to catch something.

This brought the man right back to the growing pit of guilt in his stomach. This was the third time that he had foreseen someone's death and had been unable to keep their sons from becoming orphans. Even if he were to raise these boys as his sons – which he fully planned on doing – he did not think he would ever get over the shame of his failure to keep the men and women alive.

The proud knight and his beautiful wife whose sweet face hid an incredible archery skill had been slaughtered by griffins.

The strong gypsy and his fierce wife who wielded weapons as easily as they breathed were dead by an attack of his own people.

The quiet doctor and the shy librarian were dead because he had not acted quickly enough.

Because of him…

Him…

"Well," he said at last, pulling himself with difficulty out of his dark musings. "You need a name, don't you?"

The child blinked up at him.

Splinter ran through names in his head. Somehow, none of them seemed right. He didn't much look like a John and the king didn't know of any good doctor names.

His eyes wandered to the Leonardo's cradle and a thought struck him.

"I named my first two sons after great artists… I suppose I should continue the tradition, don't you think?

"The difficulty is this – there are so many artists from that period of time…"

The king looked at the bronze item in his hand. "Metal workers… hmmm…"

Turning the broach over in his hand, he spoke a name he had heard of, an artist known for his sculptures, particularly ones in bronze. The man had been an innovative craftsmen… his had been –

"How about 'Donatello'? That is a good, strong name."

The little boy snatched again, but this time he grabbed a wad of Splinter's clothing and tugged cautiously.

"I shall take that as a yes."

At dawn the next morning, his guard dragged in a scruffy looking man with a scrawny face and narrow eyes. It took less than half an hour to prove that he was the culprit and the murderer of Donatello's parents.

He was sentenced to the mines.

Meanwhile, Splinter was groaning at the thought of finding another wet nurse.

Until the dreams began again.

**OOOOOOO! I wonder who's coming next? (Thinks real hard.)**

**Review please!**


	5. Defying Dreams

**Here we go!! Thanks to T-T-S09 for getting me off my ass to update!**

Chapter 4

Defying Dreams

"_What's the probability of only foreseeing the deaths of couples who have only one child and that child being a son every time?" the second boy piped up._

"_Who cares?" the second girl snapped. "Keep going!"_

"_Yes! Please keep going!"_

"_Keep going with what?" asked a new voice._

_A new group of children, five young boys and two little girls had entered the room._

"_She's telling a story!" the first girl moaned. "Why do people have to keep interrupting it?"_

_The crowd of children sat around the women expectantly._

As soon as the dreams began, Splinter ordered the City Guard to keep a look out for those he was dreaming of.

The dreams themselves had once again changed their focus. Now they were about a slender young woman with pale gold hair and crystal blue eyes who seemed to be waiting tables in a rather seedy looking pub. She was bringing drinks to shady looking characters, and wiping up after soldiers downing ale like professional drinkers.

He dreamt that she had entered the pub by the back door, put on her apron, and slipped out into the smoky haze of the main tavern, immediately bumping into a burly drunk man who towered over her. The mug of beer in his hand sloshed and spilled.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the girl said sincerely. "Let me get you another –"

She was cut off when he knocked her off her feet. She landed hard on her backside and gasped aloud when he raised an arm to strike her.

A hand grabbed his wrist and stopped his blow. With a powerful wrench, her savior pulled the man off his feet and slammed him to the ground.

It was a young soldier with red-blonde hair that fell into his eyes despite the stern haircut of a soldier. He had big blue eyes and a cheerful grin. "Are you alright, Miss?"

She took the hand he was offering her and stood up. "Yes, thank you. Let me get you something on the house while I get this guy out of here."

"Oh, uh, what's your name? So I know who to look for?"

The girl smiled at the man. "It's Rachel."

"I'm David. Nice to meet you, Rachel."

He dreamt that David again and again returned to the pub. The waitress and the soldier grew closer – much closer.

He dreamt that Rachel ran over to David and whispered something to him. The young man froze for a long moment before breaking out into a smile bright enough to be blinding. He laughed out loud and spun the young girl around.

The next time he returned to the pub he gave her a ring and a promise that he would return from his deployment and marry her.

But then Splinter dreamed that the waitress received a letter while she was wiping down the tables early in the morning. She opened it, took one look and fell to the ground sobbing. The young soldier's body was returned to the city and buried in the main cemetery. Rachel cried and rubbed her growing belly.

Splinter winced when he received the report that the soldier David Walker had been deployed seven months ago and killed five months ago. There was a note in the report that indicated that Lieutenant Walker had asked that half of his pay be sent to an address separate from where his pay had been sent before. It had been sent to a young waitress named Rachel Sweet who was expecting Lt. Walker's baby.

It turned out that Ms. Sweet had quit her job to check herself into the home for expectant mothers that was run by the castle itself. The place itself was located in the palace itself, albeit nowhere near the king and his sons' private quarters.

He immediately went off to see her.

The small hospital was extremely clean though a bit too crowded. Splinter made a mental note to have it enlarged. He told the matron who he wished to find and he was immediately led to the young woman he had dreamed of.

Ms. Sweet was sitting in a clean bed, her huge belly extending from her otherwise slender figure, reading a letter.

She smiled politely at the matron and the king. "Hello Mrs. Greeves, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

The older woman pursed her lips and swatted at the girl. "Show respect to the king!"

The pregnant woman blanched and attempted to get out of bed. "How do you do, Your Majesty? Ummm… forgive me, it's hard to get upright after the seventh month."

Splinter laughed at this apology. "It is quite alright, Miss. I have some rather disturbing news and I would like to move you to a safer location."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I would rather not discuss it in such a private setting," he turned to Mrs. Greeves. "May we have some privacy?"

"Oh! O-of course, your Highness!" the plump woman gasped, bobbing up and down in frantic curtseys. She then turned on the other pregnant women hovering around. "Go! Shoo! The King wishes for privacy! Away with ye!"

As soon as the crowd had retreated out of earshot, Splinter turned to the girl and told her everything from the time that he had first dreamt of the Leonardo's knight father and lady mother. He explained the terrible things that tended to befall those he dreamt of. "I realize this sounds extremely farfetched but with that has happened, I would feel more comfortable moving you to a more secure location."

Rachel bit her lip thoughtfully. "Am I obliged to go?"

"No… but I would prefer that you stay here just until your son is about…say three months old?"

"And what would I do while I stay here?"

"You would be able to do as you pleased, of course. At the end of the four or five months, I would pay you for the money you lost staying here and not going to your job and you would go with your son."

The young woman stopped chewing on her lips. "How do you know it's a boy?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It's just that the other three I have gotten as the result of the dreams have all been boys. It could be a girl, I suppose…"

She thought long and hard. "I will stay on one condition."

"And what is that?"

Rachel smiled. "I'd like to meet the young princes. It would be fun to tell my child how I met the king and his three little sons."

"That can be arranged."

And so it was that Rachel Sweet stayed in the palace. She ate well and was checked daily by the Royal Physician. She was given beautiful comfortable clothes and was allowed to go anywhere in the palace except the wings devoted to soldiers and governmental matters.

And every day she went to the nursery and held each of the baby princes, marveling at their sheer dissimilarities. It was well-known throughout the city that the princes were not the King's biological sons and due to the King famous honesty and virtue, theories of stealing small children and then killing their families to avoid accusations were viewed as despicable lies – which they were.

If Rachel was honest with herself, she had to admit that she was quite fond of them by the third day of coming to see the three and just seeing them wave their tiny fists in the air made her all the more excited for her child to be born. She adored Leonardo's soft blonde hair, Raphael's strange amber eyes, and Donatello's cute smile. It made her wonder what her own son would look like. She wondered if he would look anything like David.

It surely couldn't be too far away now. She was heavily swollen – everyday she moaned that she was a fat cow, a barge, or a whale – she couldn't get up without someone pulling her arms, and she seemed to pee four times as much.

"Hello, guys," she called, walking into the nursery, two weeks after she had begun living in the palace.

Leonardo immediately raised himself up a bit on his stomach and made excited gurgling noises. His brothers were less enthusiastic, Raphael was ignoring her, instead focusing his attention on the rattle he was knocking energetically against the side of his crib and Donatello was fully absorbed in the intricate workings of his fingers.

"I feel the love," she laughed, nodding politely at Donatello and Leonardo's nurses.

Carefully, the young woman drew Leonardo in his blue jumper out of his cradle and carried him around the room. "Look at you! You're getting so big, aren't you, Leonardo? Whew! Leonardo is way too big for such a little thing, isn't it Leo?"

The infant smiled toothlessly up at her.

She sat in a nearby rocking chair and giggled at the infant plucking at his own clothes.

Just as she was offering him her finger, she felt a terrible pang in her stomach. Her entire body seized up and she cried out. Immediately the nurses were beside her, one plucked Leonardo from her arms, the other forced her up and started leading her away, shouting for help.

The meeting with his ministers was as boring as it always was; he nodded and took notes on his advisors' speeches and reports, asked questions and proposed amendments. He wished desperately for an emergency that would take him from the dull conference, for only the life of a family member or an emergency of state could bring him out of an administration meeting. He himself would have called an end to it long ago, but his father, Yoshi's, rang in his head, "A king puts the kingdom's needs before his own, he puts its needs before his desires and amusement.

Outside, however, he could hear arguing. Someone seemed to be trying to get in to see him and was being rebuffed by his Lieutenant Parker. Even as Lord Gilbert droned on about the demands of the Blacksmith Guild, the bickering on the other side of the door was growing louder and louder every moment. Finally, Splinter raised a hand for silence and went to see what the matter was.

Mrs. Manley, Raphael's nurse, spun towards him, effectively sidestepping the guard. "My Lord Splinter! Miss Sweet is giving birth! The doctor says that there are some complications! You must hurry! Follow me!"

Pausing only to give his sincere apologies to his council, the king hurried along the corridors until he began to hear the wailings of a woman in pain.

Miss Sweet was propped up and was sitting with her knees up to her ears and breathing heavily – and attempting to keep her breathing steady. Raphael's nurse had walked about to stand beside the expectant mother and began to speak quietly and soothingly into the woman's ear. The Royal Physician was peering under Rachel's dress, monitoring her dilation.

Splinter quickly came around to other side of the woman and grabbed her hand. "Are you alright, Ms. Sweet?"

"I've been…better…" the woman gasped.

"How long has it been?" he demanded of the doctor.

"Her contractions are about two minutes apart, she must start pushing."

"Why was I not informed that this was happening?"

"Because," Mrs. Manley said. "Your idiot guards refused to let me in! The poor girl has been in pain for the past five hours and we haven't been able to find you!"

The king bit his lip and tasted blood. He had been out riding for most of the morning taking stock of the crops, and had then returned to the castle, immediately shutting himself in with his council. "What can I do?"

"Right now, my Lord, that's about all you _can_ do," Dr. Bantam said apologetically, nodding to how he was gripping the girl's hand. "In a few minutes, Rachel will have to start pushing and it will take about thirty minutes or more for the baby to emerge."

"Can't…I push…now?"

"Not yet," the doctor said. "Just wait a little."

"Easy for…you to…argh! Say," Rachel panted.

Splinter held her hand gently and bit back a groan when her grip became vise-like as she squeezed and squeezed. They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity until the doctor finally nodded and urged her to start pushing.

The next thirty minutes was filled with Rachel's moans and cries as she gave birth. She gasped and clenched her body as she gave another painful push.

"I can see the head! One more big push! Just one more!" The doctor.

"Come on, Rachel! Let's see this kid of yours!" The nurse.

"It will be alright, Ms. Sweet. Your baby will be fine." The king.

The young woman, whose lover had died on the battlefield, screamed, giving one final almighty push and fell back upon the bed.

And there was the baby. Tiny, wrinkled, and wet, flailing his tiny fists about, his screams even louder than his mother's.

"It's a boy!" Dr. Bantam cried exuberantly.

"It most definitely is!" Mrs. Mansley laughed.

Splinter took the child from the doctor and showed him to Rachel. "You have a son, Rachel. What will you call him?"

The woman's head lolled towards him. "I thought about naming him after his father, but he doesn't really look like a David. I don't know…

"You know… after David died… I stopped believing that there was a god. I decided that even if there was a god, he couldn't be worth praying to because he had let David die…"

"Rachel, you need to push!"

"But there is a god, isn't there? He took my love, but He gave me a son…"

"Ms. Sweet! Push!"

"The priest used to say that everyone has some of God in them… Isn't that funny? Even when I hated Him… He was inside of me… My son…"

She smiled adoringly at her son. "He has more God in him that I do… He is like God… Is there a name like that?"

Splinter answered. "Yes… Michael."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. "Too normal… He needs a rarer name… A special one…"

"Push, damnit! Push! Push!" the doctor shouted.

Rachel ignored him. "Well, My Lord?"

"The artist who sculpted the _David_ was named Michelangelo."

"Michelangelo? I like that. Can I see him?"

When the infant was laid into her arms, she cradled him to her chest. "My Michelangelo. My Mikey…"

The king smiled at the scene and turned to the doctor. "I must return the council and see what has been done. I will return after several hours."

He had just managed to debrief his councilors and was offering his most sincere apologies for his abrupt departure from the meeting when the doctor came. "Yes, Doctor?"

The man did not waffle. "Ms. Sweet is dead. The birth must have burst something in her brain, there was a blood vessel bleeding in her eye." Bantam hung his head. "There was nothing I could do."

Splinter stared at him incomprehensibly. "Ms. Sweet? Miss Rachel?"

"She's dead."

The king hung his head. "I suppose this means I have a new child. Michelangelo."

**Well, that's Mikey! Please review!**


	6. Reassurance

**Okay peoples! Here it is! This a rather plotless chapter but R&R anyway!**

Chapter 5

Reassurance

"_Awwwww!" cried one of the youngest girls, clutching her teddy bear close to her chest. "Why'd the pretty lady have to die?"_

"_That's just the way it is!" snapped one of the boys. "Now shut up so she can finish the story!"_

Splinter was in shock for the next two days.

Again.

Again he had been unable to prevent the death of yet another parent. He kept ticking them off in his mind: the knight, the knight's lady wife, the gypsy Gianni, the gypsy woman Vittoria – not to mention the entire gypsy caravan – the doctor John Brass, the librarian Mary Brass, and now Rachel Sweet.

There were now four cribs in the nursery. Leonardo, who was now crawling about vigorously. Raphael, who was dragging himself along on his belly. Donatello, sitting up and examining anything left within grabbing distance.

The newest addition to the family, Michelangelo, had grown pale blonde hair and had bright blue eyes. He lay on his back wherever he was set, waving his pudgy arms in the air.

The king wearily awaited the next bout of dreams.

He waited a month.

Nothing.

Two months passed. Nothing.

Three months. Nothing.

Leonardo had now been with him for about nine months and was now taking his first shaky steps, leading Splinter to estimate his age about a year old. He had had Raphael for about eight months and the boy was beginning to leave off his wild crawling to attempt to stand with the help of sturdy chairs and often other people. Donatello, having lived in the palace for the last seven months, was still briskly crawling around the ground, examining everything he found the on the ground, much to the chagrin and worriment of his adoptive father and his nurse. Michelangelo was now five months old and happily sitting up and playing peek-a-boo with anyone willing to play.

Six months.

Nothing.

Splinter chose the day he had found his sons as the days for their birthdays – June 6 for Leonardo, July 23 for Raphael and August 31 for Donatello. Guessing Michelangelo's birthday was totally and obviously unnecessary – the boy had been born on October 6 in the palace.

A year.

Still nothing.

The boys' personalities were definitely emerging.

Leonardo, now considered two years old, was very quiet and solemn. He only needed to be told 'no' once or twice before he immediately stopped the unwanted action, though he often wanted to know why his activity was forbidden. He was protective of his brothers and was already assuming the position of leader.

Raphael, also two years old, was loud and rather rambunctious, though he swung between wanting to be alone and wanting to follow his father around. Already he was showing a nasty temper and an extreme dislike of obeying orders. He was wild and never seemed to want to sit still unless he was eating or sleeping – during which he hated to be disturbed.

Donatello, almost two, was generally an easy child to look after, unless he saw something that interested him. Then, he would stop at absolutely nothing to satisfy his curiosity, from grabbing the object, to shaking it, to sticking it into his mouth – with varying consequences.

Michelangelo, though not quite two, had taken to walking and crawling like a duck to water and was prone to frequently escaping the nursery and getting lost in the palace. He was cheerful, friendly and a bit hyper, outrunning his nanny Mrs. Thomas even with his short legs.

Finally, on the night before Michelangelo's second birthday, Splinter dreamed. However, this vision was unlike anything he had experienced before.

He was confronted by the parents of his sons, all of whom were standing around him in the clothes they had died in.

"Thank you for your kindness in looking after our son," the knight said solemnly. "The name you chose for him suits him well."

His lady wife curtseyed gracefully.

Gianni and Vittoria gave him quick nods.

"I'm glad to see I didn't have to remind you of your promise," Vittoria commented, crossing her arms across her chest. "My son is going to be one hell of a warrior."

Gianni winced. "But with your temper."

Dr. Brass bowed respectfully to the king. "Thank you for bringing justice for our deaths." It was astonishing how he could look so calm and polite standing in his pajamas.

"Oh yes," agreed Mrs. Brass. "Thank you for caring for our son! I'm glad to see he's so curious."

Lt. Walker saluted as Miss Sweet smiled brightly at him. "Thank you for everything, Master Splinter. Please… you mustn't blame yourself for our deaths."

"She's right," the lady wife said. "Everything that happens happens for a reason. I wouldn't have anyone else looking after my son than you, Master."

"Why don't you take all that guilt you've been torturing yourself with and use that wasted energy on looking after our sons?" the gypsy woman suggested sharply. "You prayed for sons, didn't you? Well, you got them. We were all going to die anyway and I think it's safe to say that we're all just glad that the boys didn't have to die either."

"Beautifully put!" Mrs. Brass cried. "And Master? Make sure that you tell the boys about us."

There was an immediate outcry of agreement to this and the knight had to shout to make himself heard. "Oh, and Master Splinter? Stop waiting for more dreams. I do believe that God thinks four sons are more than enough for you."

For the first time in the dream, Splinter managed to speak. "There will be no more dreams? No more children?"

"No. Michelangelo was the last."

"Why me?"

Vittoria rolled the amber eyes Raphael had inherited. "I already explained this to you. You prayed for sons, remember? We –" she gestured to those around her "-were all going to die anyway. So it only made sense to give our sons – who weren't meant to die – over to someone who would love them and raise them properly. Apparently the Lord thought that you were the best person for the job."

"And why…why do you call me 'Master'?"

"Well, you are a Master of martial arts, aren't you?" Lt. Walker pointed out. "And you are going to teach our sons to fight, right? With your own hands?"

"Yes, yes!" Mrs. Brass nodded vigorously. "Make sure you train them well. Don't let Donatello… don't let him die like we did. Give him the skills to defend himself."

Splinter dropped to his knees before the group. "I swear on my throne and my honor… I will raise your sons as though they were my own sons. I will train them to fight and to do what is right. I will tell them about you when the time is right. I will protect them for as long as I am able. They will be my heirs."

The group looked on him with immense approval and started to fade away.

"Wait!" the king shouted. "Their names! What of Leonardo and Donatello's names?!"

"You've given them their names!" Dr. Brass called. "They are your sons, now!"

"But-"

"We are part of the past!" shouted the knight. "Let us stay there! We will take our lives and the names of the boys with us!"

Before Splinter could argue this, something warm and soft rubbed against his arm and he turned –

And woke to find Michelangelo pressing up against him, clutching a stuffed bear, on his left.

He sighed and rolled over, knowing that by sunrise tomorrow, Donatello would be sandwiched between his right side and Raphael, and Leonardo would be curled up at the foot of the bed.

For the first time since the whole ordeal began, he slept soundly, without dreams of watching the brave young men and women live and die.

**Alrighty! Next chapter we really start getting down to business! **

**Review!**


	7. The Princes

**Okay! Here are the guys in all their teenage cuteness!**

Chapter 6

The Princes

"_Wow!" squealed the first little girl. "They really talkeded to him when he was asleep? Even though they were dead?"_

"_Is that even scientifically possible?" asked one of the boys._

"_Who cares? Besides, dead people can do stuff not-dead people can't. Everybody knows that!" One of the other girls tossed her dark curls over her shoulder and turned back to the storyteller. "What happened then?"_

"_Well…"_

The years passed.

And passed.

And passed some more.

It was thirteen years before anything extraordinary happened.

The boys were now fifteen years old and had long since left their baby years behind them.

Leonardo was now tall, slender and serious. He stood about five foot nine and seemed to shoot up another few inches when you turned your back. His wavy dark blond hair, coupled with his dark brown eyes, and handsome features made him intensely attractive to every girl in the kingdom. However, his looks were only the barest tip of the iceberg. The young man – even at such a young age – was showing signs of incredible wisdom and an extremely stern sense of honor and duty. He had been trained by the king himself in martial arts and swordsmanship, learning a versatile and powerful technique his father called ninjitsu. His skills became so advanced that soon he was able to fight with two swords at once and it was said that he was unmatched by any other swordsman in the kingdom and even those who specialized in other weapons were hard-pressed to defeat him. He was a fine young man and had been named heir to the king, first in line to the throne.

Raphael was another matter entirely. He was tall as well, though an inch or so below Leonardo, and lean, but whereas his brother was lithe and flexible, he was hard and muscular. Even at the tender age of fifteen he was stronger than most of the palace blacksmiths. He had curly jet black hair that was constantly falling onto his forehead and his amber eyes looked even more striking in his sharp, exotic bronze face. The young gypsy had also inherited his mother's alleged temper and his people's legendary independence; he could fly into a temper faster than any of his brothers, had a vocabulary that outdid most sailors' and was constantly clashing with Leonardo's more restrained attitude. Despite his irritability and his frequent brusqueness with everyone in the kingdom, the boy showed incredible gentleness and ease with horses to the point where he was the best rider of any of his brothers, able to ride harder, faster, and get the most out of the beast before it dropped of exhaustion. He was the fiercest and wildest of his brothers when it came to fighting and felt most at home when he had his strange, short weapons, sais he called them, in his big hands. A true wolf-child, as his people would say.

Donatello was the quietest of the four. Skinnier than he was slender, he put one in mind of the harebrained scholars that secluded themselves up in the astronomy towers for weeks on end, with his brown hair that generally looked grayer than it was due to the dust from the library and archives and intelligent pale hazel brown eyes that had a tendency to go dreamy and unfocussed when he was thinking of something, which happened to be quite often. He was not as tanned as his brothers, because of his long hours muttering over sketches and plans for all sorts of crazy inventions – at least that was until he took a sample of mysterious black powder that created mayhem and chaos with accompanying explosions and fire in the east and recreated it, calling it gunpowder, and then creating a weapon that used the gunpowder to launch large balls filled with gunpowder that exploded upon hitting an enemy. After this, he was generally regarded as a young genius with his impressive knowledge of just about everything from literature, medicine, anatomy, astronomy and chemistry. The young man was gentle and patient with everyone and rarely could be goaded in a fight. When he did fight, he showed impressive skills fighting hand-to-hand and with his staff.

Michelangelo defied most attempts to describe, but as his brothers were described, a basic sketch of him will be given. He was the shortest of his brothers and was lanky to the point of gawkiness. His hair was bleached blond from his constant exposure to the sun, with darker golden strands beneath the white-blond layer, his eyes were a bright crystalline blue, and he had an erratic spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. To match his rather eccentric appearance, the young man had the personality of a hyper monkey, never standing still, performing acrobatic feats that would make circus acrobats weep with envy, and joking and teasing worse than any clown. He was so bright and cheerful that most people were hard-pressed not to like him immediately and because of this he was extremely well liked by all of the animals in the city except most of the horses who didn't like his constant motion and his pranks. As the baby of the family, he enjoyed the tolerance and protection of his three elder brothers and his father. He was faster than his brothers and specialized in the unpredictable weapons that his father called nunchaku.

On one clear spring morning, Lord Splinter came into the small room just off of the kitchen in which his small family ate their private meals to find his sons settling down to eat their breakfast.

"Good morning, Master," Leonardo said respectfully.

"Good morning, Father," Donatello smiled, offering the king a teacup.

"Morning," Raphael grunted, staring at his coffee cup blearily.

He smiled at his sons, before frowning. "Where is Michelangelo?"

"That knucklehead?" his gypsy child groaned. "He came screaming into my room and jumped on me before the crack of dawn. It'll take him at least another hour to get himself out of the closet."

Splinter sighed. "Raphael…"

"You should probably let him out before he starts screaming, Raph," Donatello advised.

"Relax, Donny. I'll let him out if he hasn't gotten out by noon."

"Raph," Leonardo began.

"Deep breaths, Leo. We both know he ain't going to starve in there, Mikey always has something to eat in his pockets."

This was entirely true, because of the insane metabolism of growing teenage boys, the palace cook had finally thrown up his hands and now each day he gave the young princes a handful of fruit and honey filled bread rolls to tide them over the long several hours between meals.

"But still…"

"Leo. Mikey ain't five anymore, he can deal with the dark for a few hours, okay?"

Sensing an argument coming on, their father hastily interrupted. "You are all aware of why there was no early morning training, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, Master."

"Of course, the dignitary."

"Yes, the dignitary. He is coming to us from a land across the western seas and wishes to meet all of you. This means of course, Raphael, that you will have to release your brother from the closet."

His son sighed, "Okay. What's this guy want to meet us for, anyway?"

"He wishes to see if any of you could be a suitable match for the princess of his country."

The reactions to this explanation were very interesting. Leonardo choked on his tea, Donatello fell out of his chair with a crash, and Raphael jolted so much that he sloshed his coffee all over himself and yelped as the steaming liquid went right through his red tunic.

"_What!!"_

"Nothing is final," Splinter said quickly. "This dignitary is actually traveling the world to gather the names of those he believes are appropriate for the princess. He may decide that none of you are… well…"

"Good enough," Donatello finished, flatly.

"Appropriate. You see, my sons, the dignitary's king, the father of the princess, wants to find someone he thinks that his daughter could love. Therefore, he doesn't want to choose just anyone."

Raphael scoffed. "So what? He's just going to travel around and stare at a bunch of teenagers to see who the girl might like?"

"That's the basic idea, yes."

"Uh… in case it's slipped your notice, Sensei," Donatello said lightly. "We're only fifteen. We're not old enough to be marrying anyone."

"I agree fully," Splinter said fervently. "However, it would be good manners to at least meet with this man. Which means –" he gave his sons a sharp look " – I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. Is that clear?"

"Yes," the three chorused, with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Now. He will be here soon. Come, Raphael, we must find Michelangelo and inform of our visitor."

**Okay, listen. EVEN IF YOU DON'T WANT TO REVIEW, PLEASE TELL ME WHICH OF THE GUYS SEEM THE HOTTEST, OKAY?**

**Otherwise, thanks for reading!! Review please!**


	8. The Curse

**This one sucker was hard but I finally finished!**

Chapter 7

A Curse

"_OOOOH!" sang one of the smallest girls. "They were weal pitty, huh?"_

"_Boys ain't pitty!" objected a boy about her age. "We has-ome!"_

"_Did they marry the princess?" asked an older girl._

"_Of course they didn't!" snapped a boy. "Don't you get it? These guys are-"_

"_Shut up, stupid!!!"_

Less than two hours later, the King and his four sons stood in the entrance hall in their finest clothes.

Leonardo Hamato, first in line to the throne, was resisting the urge to pull at the collar of his fine blue tunic. He actually liked this shirt – on the hanger. It was velvet and stiff with silver embroidery at the neck, shoulders, hem, and right down the middle of his chest in the shape of water, everything from rolling waves to falling rain. His trousers were brown and simple, with thick soled boots that he himself had shined to mirror hue. He shifted slightly at the feeling of eyes burning on his back; he knew without turning around that they belonged to the girls who worked and lived in the palace.

The prince hastily glanced down the line at his brothers, Raph tugging unhappily at his handsome red tunic, Donny twitching in his purple shirt, and Mikey twisting around like a cat within his orange tunic.

He sighed; his brothers might hate their formal clothes with a fierce passion, but, judging by the looks the young women were giving them, they looked pretty good. Not that he could really. His brothers looked the same as they always did, albeit with cleaner faces and formal clothes – and miserable faces.

Finally, Matthew, the Royal Herald, marched inside and announced to the hall, "The Dignitary of Solaris! His Lordship Sir Akito!"

A short, slender man dressed all in black strode into the hall with the grace of a bred courtier. At his small heels was a tall muscular figure cloaked in black that kept his hands within the shadows of his cloak. His bodyguard, no doubt.

Lord Akito bowed smoothly to Splinter and to each of the princes. His bodyguard kept behind him and gave jerky nods to each of them.

"Hail to you King! Hail to the princes! I bring you greetings from the kingdom Solaris across the seas and his Majesty Saki and his daughter the Princess Karai!"

"Greetings to you, Lord Akito," Splinter said formally. "As king, I welcome you to my kingdom."

Taking the cue, Leonardo – or Leo as just about everyone, except for the more formal servants and his father, called him – stepped forward and bowed. "Good afternoon, My Lord. My name is Leonardo."

Each of his brothers immediately stepped forward and introduced themselves with all the formalness and courtliness that had been drilled into them.

The rest of the day was spent showing the dignitary around the castle, the city, and the farmlands and surrounding forests and meadows. He had dinner with them in the enormous, formal dining room, with the cook's masterpieces piled high on gold and silver plates and jeweled cups and pitchers holding prize ale and other expensive beverages. They sat in the parlor and discussed politics, economics, military tactics, and everything else involving government and the ruling of a kingdom.

Akito was actually very friendly, as far as diplomats went. He didn't even make much of their lack of any real royal blood.

He had merely asked about their dissimilar appearances. Most did, it was hard not to when the such varied young men called an elderly man who had never been married with a distinct Eastern look father. This, of course, had led into the overview of their rather sketchy histories.

"Fascinating!" Akito said, leaning forward in his armchair. "So all four of you were found around the same time?"

"That's correct," Leo nodded.

"Hmm… that's very interesting… Tell, Prince Leonardo, how old are you?"

"I will be 16 next month."

"And the rest of you are younger than this Prince, correct?"

"Yes," Donny said.

The man looked thoughtful. "Our princess Karai will be fifteen in the winter."

He stared into the fire, giving the four princes ample time to circulate a rather horrified look.

Catching the less than thrilled glances his sons were exchanging, Splinter quickly spoke up, "Do you think we will have the honor of meeting Princess Karai?"

"I am not sure; it depends on what the king says. However…" the diplomat's sharp black eyes travelled over the four, lingering on Leonardo. "I think you will."

***************************

When the princes were finally able to leave, Mikey and Raph wasted no time in ripping off their formal clothes and slinging the stiff velvet and brocade over their shoulders.

"That wasn't too bad," Donny said.

"It could'a been worse, I guess," Raph muttered, striding along. "At least the guy wasn't an ass."

Leo nodded. "He was very interesting."

"Yeah!" Mikey said enthusiastically. "I didn't know half of what he told us about sailing!"

"Or about horse training."

"Or about gunpowder! I wonder if I could use it to-"

"No geek-talk, Donny!" Raph groaned. The dark youth turned wicked amber eyes on his elder brother. "I think Akito's going to give your name to that girl and her father, dude?"

Donny grinned. "That's right! Did you see that look on his face? He was definitely interested!"

The youngest of them laughed and slung an arm around the favored brother. "So, Leo, how's it feel to be almost married?"

Throwing off the arm, the blonde scowled at the others, "I am not married yet! I haven't even met this girl yet! Besides, Master Splinter said this was just a preliminary meeting, he doesn't even want us to get married yet!"

"But he will. What will you do then, big brother?"

Leo glared at Raph. "I _am not marrying anyone_!!"

"Who would you want to marry?" Donny asked, unbuttoning his tunic.

"I don't know… someone who understands me, I guess."

"Awww…" Raph laughed. "Ain't that cute, Mikey? Have you ladies planned out your wedding out yet?"

"What about you Raph? Who would you marry?"

The young man shrugged. "I haven't thought much of it."

"I want someone to make me laugh!" Mikey said loudly. "Leo would get someone as serious as he is, Donny would get a girl who understands everything he says and is actually interested, and Raph would get someone who has as bad a temper as he does!"

Donny laughed. "That sounds good, but I'm glad we don't have to worry about that for a long time!"

*************************************

Back in the parlor, Splinter began the long, tedious process of asking the diplomat what he had thought.

"Well, they are all fine young men, I must compliment you on them, you must be a fine father."

"But?"

No wonder Akito was said to be such a good diplomat, he was extremely good at avoiding questions. "But the princess can only have one husband. I must make my choices carefully."

"Will any of your choices be my sons?"

"The Prince Leonardo seems to be the likeliest candidate. He is much like the princess and –"

"I think not."

Both Splinter and Akito jumped.

The diplomat's bodyguard had stepped out of the shadows. With a careless shrug of his shoulders, the cloak fell away to reveal a fierce face with cruel dark eyes.

Akito fell out of the chair and threw himself at the man's feet. "My king!"

Splinter rose to his feet. "You are –"

"I am Oruku Saki, King of the Ancient Island kingdom!" the man thundered. "How dare you offer mongrels for my daughter's hand in marriage!?"

"Mongrels?" Splinter repeated, fury coursing through his veins. "You call my sons _mongrels_?!"

The proud King Saki's face was screwed into a sneer. "What else would you call the son of a worthless knight, the barbarian brat of gypsies, the sniveling infant of intellectuals who couldn't protect themselves from a simple criminal, and the bastard of serving bitch!? They are not worthy to gaze on my child's shoes and you would name them princes?!"

"I must ask you not to speak that way about my sons." He had only spoken like this two dozen times, one of which when he had sentenced the attackers of the gypsy caravan he had gotten Raphael from and another when he had condemned Donatello's parents murderer to the mines. The subjects unlucky enough to hear knew what it meant, the king was angry and it was best to get out or apologize before he took your head off.

"Your sons?! Hah! You are a decrepit old man so desperate for heirs that you took in beggars off the street! What's the matter? Didn't your seed sit in any of your whores?! You're as pathetic as your father! Yoshi was a fool as well. But you! Choosing such little bastards!"

"Get out." He could not remember ever being so angry. His steady, frigid voice was at odds with his trembling. "I reject your offer of the Princess Karai's hand. Please leave and do not return."

Saki laughed manically. "Do you really think that will protect you and your abominations from me?! Hear me now, Splinter of Rosacaea! You and your kingdom will suffer for this! I place a curse upon your head and those of your sons and your subjects! At the sun's first light, your sons' appearances will match the sludge that runs through their veins! You will then see what mongrels you adopted! Let us see if anyone, from the highest princess to the lowest whore will have them then!"

With that, the man turned and swept from the room, giving Akito a kick in the ribs as he went. "You will stay here, blind fool! You are cursed as well for your approval at giving my precious daughter to these false princes!"

*********************************

The foreign king could not be found, though Splinter ordered the entire castle and kingdom searched.

He called his sons together and explained the situation. Leonardo was worried, Michelangelo was fascinated, and Donatello and Raphael were highly skeptical.

"You said yourself that he wasn't in the best of mental health, Master," Donatello pointed out. "It was probably just the rantings of a deranged mind. Besides, magic is completely unproved."

"Do not doubt something just because you have not seen it, my son," Splinter said, his hands clasped behind him as he gazed into the fire.

"Master?" his eldest said quietly. "The sky is growing pale."

Indeed it was, the velvety blackness was giving way to the soft grey of morning.

"I can't believe we've been up all night and we haven't been able to find him," Raphael grumbled.

"What do you think's gonna happen, Master?" Michelangelo asked excitedly.

"I don't know, Michelangelo," he said heavily. "Hopefully nothing."

He was soon joined at the window by all four of his sons. Together, they watched as the sky turned from grey to pink to gold.

And finally, father and sons witnessed the first brilliant light of the rising sun.

Immediately, a thunderous voice shook the castle down to its foundations. "You four mongrels will live as the abominations you are until some blind foolish girl should come and love you. She must say that she loves you, will marry you, and seals it all with a kiss! Good-bye, monsters! As for you, Splinter a rat you are and as a rat you will live until your sons can break the spell!"

And the world went to hell.

*******************************

Master Splinter, King of Rosacaea woke to a terrible aching throughout his body and a curious feeling of pins and needles along his skin.

"Father?" Leonardo?

When had Leonardo sounded this frightened?

He turned toward the source of his son's voice – and saw the form the curse had taken.

**Dun dun DUUN! They are cursed!**

**Keep up the emails telling me who's the hottest – Leo's in the lead so far. Keep the reviews coming!**


	9. The Spell and Maternal Plans

**I can't believe I got this up so quickly! Please review! Yea!! According to my wonderful reviewers, Leo is still the hottest!**

Chapter 8

The Spell and Maternal Plans

"_Wow!" gasped a small boy. "So there really are such things as curses?"_

"_Oh yes," the storyteller said seriously._

"_Wow!" whispered another boy. "What was the curse?"_

"_Well…"_

His sons – his handsome sons – were turtles. Huge turtles able to walk and speak like men. The only characteristics they retained were their voices and their eyes.

He himself had been changed into an enormous rat, and was unable to walk upright without the extensive use of a walking staff.

Their kingdom did not escape the curse either. The great marble city had been replaced by an enormous dark forest and the castle seemed to be shrouded in shadows even at the height of the summer sun. The gardens were the only things on the grounds that had been badly affected; rather, they were kept in a state of perfect beauty.

The palace servants had gone through radical changes as well. Some appeared as living water, others as glittering grains of sand, others tongues of flames, others as invisible gusts of wind, and still others as nothing more than light. They attached themselves to each of the five men: the light to the king, the water to Leonardo, the fire to Raphael, the earth to Donatello, and the wind to Michelangelo.

For a full week, the five could only stagger around their home, each desperately trying to wake themselves from the nightmare that had descended upon them.

On the eighth night, Splinter had a dream.

************************************************

He was standing in the middle of his gardens, looking towards the great silver gates.

He was human.

"So…" came a menacing voice.

He spun around, his body more spry than it had been in years, to see Raphael's mother Vittoria standing before him, hands on her slender hips. The gypsy looked ready to strangle something.

"So… I entrust my son – my only son – to you and you get him cursed! Just wonderful!"

"Be fair, 'Toria," scolded Leonardo's Lady mother, abruptly appearing beside the irate woman. "It wasn't his fault. That maniac was going to do something to our boys no matter what he said."

"And let's face it," teased Michelangelo's mother Rachel. "You'd probably have said something much worse to him."

"I would have taken his head off."

"So what are we going to do about this?" Donatello's mother Mary asked practically.

Finally finding his voice, the king spoke up. "Forgive me, ladies, but what exactly _can_ you do? You are… well…"

"Dead?" Vittoria supplied bluntly.

"Well, yes," he said awkwardly.

"Do you really think being dead affects us at all?" the gypsy woman demanded.

There was a pause.

"Don't answer that."

"Very well. Well then, tell me what you will do?"

"Simple," the Lady said. "That Saki-person said that a young woman had to fall in love with each boy, correct? Say she loved him, would marry him, and then seal it with a kiss?"

"Yes…"

"Well, then," she said, extending her arms. "It is really quite simple. We must find four young ladies to marry our sons."

Splinter gaped.

And gaped some more.

It was funny how speaking to the dead mothers of his four adopted sons could so easily rob him of his composure.

"_What?!"_

"That does seem like the most logical solution," Mary Brass agreed, slowly nodding.

"Okay," Vittoria said. "So where are we going to find these ladies?"

"Why should we look for them?" Rachel asked. "The forest around the palace is enchanted, isn't it? Anyone who enters an enchanted forest is drawn to the center and the palace is in the center! So anyone who comes in will be lead straight here!"

"That's true," Mary muttered, striding over to sit on a conveniently placed stone bench.

"Of course," the Lady said thoughtfully, rubbing her chin. "It probably wouldn't hurt if we maybe… lured them into the forest?"

"That would work." Michelangelo's mother cocked her head at the stunned king. "You do know that we can influence people, right? And talk to them in their sleep?"

"I had noticed. And tell me," the man said, voice hoarse with sheer disbelief. "Why exactly will the women stay here? My sons are… not many would be able to look on them calmly."

"Nice way of putting that they're hideous," Vittoria commented, sinking down beneath a tree several feet away from Mary's bench. "But that part's easy. You just don't let them leave."

Splinter thought he was going to be ill. "Hold them captive here?"

The Lady sighed. "If the boys are going to be released from the curse, certain… sacrifices will have to be made."

"Besides!" Rachel Sweet chirped, joining Mary on her bench. "It's not like you're going to be doing anything worse than telling them to stay within the palace walls. Tell them they can go and do whatever they want as long as they don't leave –"

"And introduce them to the boys –" Mary continued.

"And let nature do the rest!" Vittoria finished triumphantly.

The king put a hand to his forehead. "Oh my goodness… How can you even think of doing this?"

Leonardo's mother answered, "Your majesty, we may be dead. We may not have held our sons for very long. We may have given them into your care, but they are still our sons. We are still their mothers. We will do whatever is necessary to keep them safe and happy."

"We'll do whatever it takes to help them," the gypsy said flatly, drawing her knees up.

There was a moment of resolved silence that was abruptly broken in a very Michelangeloesque way by Rachel asking, "What kind of girl do you think Mikey would like?"

**Please review!**


	10. Waiting

**Hah!!! Two chapters in one day! Take that writer's block!!!**

Chapter 9

Waiting

"_How come their daddies didn't come?" the first little girl wanted to know._

"'_Cause Daddies' mommies always stick their noses into the weddings," said another girl. "That's what Mommy says!"_

"_Did they find the ladies right away?"_

"_Did they really turn into turtles?"_

"_I like turtles."_

"_They bite."_

"_No they don't!"_

"_Yes-"_

"_BE QUIET!" shouted one of the smaller girls furiously. "Keep going with the story, please."_

Leonardo strode down the halls of his home.

It had been almost one year since he and his family had been cursed and he had already resigned himself to living for the rest of his life this way. The one who had made them this way had said the spell could be broken, but how could any girl fall in love with someone who looked like him.

He was about six feet tall, with reasonably broad shoulders and a shell that had been torturously heavy the first month. He had left off wearing human clothes as just about everything private seemed to be covered be chest plates – carapace, Donny had called them – and shell and now simply wore a blue mask over his eyes and his twin katanas on his back – shell.

The worst thing about being a turtle – besides the way he looked – was how he could no longer spend very much time outside in the colder temperatures any more. He had loved going out in the snow even as a teenager, admiring the untouched portions of the white powder. Now it looked as though he would never enjoy the snow as much ever again.

Once in a while people would stumble onto the castle, but Master Splinter would always order them to stay out of sight and tell the servants to attend on them for the night and show them to the door in the morning.

Only once had one of their guests ever caught sight of one of them.

A slender girl with long black hair had come across Donatello and had nearly screamed the roof down. Thankfully, her friends and family chalked her terrified ramblings to exhaustion and the nervousness and strangeness of such a magnificent, somber place and being waited on by the elements themselves.

Leo had felt the slightest yearning to follow them when they left, the urge to be around real, normal people again.

But he didn't.

Being a monster kind of put a dampener on those kinds of plans.

***********************************

Raphael sat in an empty stable stall where his favorite horse, Faust, had once stood. Once he had changed, no horse would come anywhere near him and after the third time Faust had screamed and kicked at him, he had lost his temper and driven all of the horses out.

He had stood at the gates for an hour after that, already regretting his outburst and wishing that one, just one, would return, showing that they remembered the young man who had ridden them. But no, they saw only a freak.

Physically, Raph had adjusted fairly well to the transformation, the strength he had had as a human apparently was easily translated as a turtle. He had easily gotten used to lugging around a shell and had started wearing a red bandanna mask over his eyes. Mentally and emotionally was a whole other story.

He had been furious when the girl had screamed upon seeing Donny – it wasn't as though they were monsters! They were princes, for God's sake!

The first few weeks he had stormed through the castle, hurling everything within arm's reach at the wall; the fire servants had taken to moving everything rare and valuable – which in a royal castle meant just about everything – away from him as he walked through the halls. While never the calmest or even-tempered of his brothers, he was now only a hair's width away from flying into a rage that rivaled anything he had ever managed before the curse.

He was never entirely sure of how he felt – even on a good day – and couldn't decide if he wanted to be in the same room as his family or not. He had removed every mirror in the castle that he could find, hating to see what he now was – Raph had never been vain by any stretch of the imagination, but it still hurt somewhere in his chest when he saw his reflection and remembered how he had once looked.

As for breaking the curse, there was no chance, there had never been a chance, and there would never be a chance.

**********************************

Donatello was even quieter these days.

The transformation had been painful for him but he had pushed through it, choosing a purple mask for himself.

He preferred to spend most of his time in the library or in his workshop just down the hall from his bedroom and the library. There had to be another way to break the curse and he was going to find it.

He often missed dinner and fell asleep in his workshop and the library twice as much as he slept in his own room.

Though he never spoke of the young woman who had screamed at the sight of him, he held the memory of her wide-eyed, horrified face in his heart. It hadn't been so much the screaming he had cared about – Mikey could scream at quadruple that pitch – it had been the sheer repulsion in her eyes.

He was going to find a way out of this. He WAS.

Donny Hamato was going to fix this no matter what it took.

***********************************

Michelangelo hummed happily to himself as he backflipped across the training room. His shell was still rather cumbersome and he was still getting used to it.

On the whole, he had fared well. He was not as tall as his brothers – but then again, he never had been – and had decided on an orange mask. The masks had been his idea, why not? They did look pretty cool.

He spent most of his days wandering and wreaking havoc around the castle, something his brothers did not appreciate. Leo was always off meditating, trying to come to terms with the curse. Raph was always in a dangerous mood and ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Donny was grumpy and snappish from staying up all night, trying to find a cure.

Mikey was actually very calm about the whole turtle thing. There was a way out of it and he had faith that something – or someone – would come along and break the spell. He just had to be patient.

And the youngest prince, for all his insanities and eccentricities, was actually a very patient young man.

*****************************

King Splinter learned how to walk without the use of the staff and took to wearing robes that covered his body but allowed for easy movement.

Every night he was visited by the mothers of his sons and given a report on their search. So far they had only bad news to give him.

Several months into the curse, he had asked them, "Why aren't your husbands ever with you?"

Leonardo's mother had looked at him in open astonishment. "Since when have men ever been any good at matters of the heart? Beer, yes, but love they don't know anything about until it bites them."

He had left it at that.

Every time a group with a young woman came, he went to bed hoping this would be one, but every time the women told him that the girl wasn't the one.

Another year passed before he finally received the first hint of an appropriate young lady.

**Okie-dokie, here's another for you guys. Kindly review!**


	11. The Noblewoman

**Okay, here're one of the girls. Tell me what you think of her!**

Chapter 10

A Noblewoman

"_Mama would kill him if he tried to throw our stuff around," commented the second girl._

_Several boys around her snickered in hearty agreement._

"_Who was the lady?"_

Angela of Verity sat tall and proud on the sturdy little horse her father had procured for her. She, her father, and their servants, who were somewhere far behind them, were travelling through the country to meet the young – and not so young – rich men seeking wives.

For her part, she was not at all pleased to be doing this but he was her father and he had told her that she must marry so marry she must. It did not matter that her father had left her with her uncle and aunt after her mother had died more than ten years ago while he went off gallivanting and squandering the family fortune. In fact, her father's frivolous lifestyle was the reason for her having to marry so early – he needed the money her marriage would bring him to continue his life of parties and intrigues.

It was lucky for him that Angela was so striking. She had her mother's cream and peaches complexion, rosebud lips and a face worthy of a master sculptor. Her eyes were silvery grey and surrounded by pale feathery lashes that brushed her cheek demurely every time she blinked. Her hair was a delicate silvery blond that shone softly in its own light and she stood and moved with the grace of a much older woman. Blessed with a perfect figure and face, she was sure to bring her father a very nice price.

Not that he cared about her other talents beside those she would need as a nobleman's wife, that she could run a farm and ride a horse; she could outrun anyone and was an expert archer and an incredible fencer. Her uncle had called her his warrior princess.

Her father called her his cash cow.

Tonight they were to reach the lands of Duke Lewis, an obscenely rich man of about forty-seven. She was not looking forward to this at all; she could just imagine the picture she must present.

Angela was not conceited, but she was aware of her looks and knew how her current piece of clothing accentuated every asset. Her riding skirts trailed down around her in a soft navy blue while the bodice was laced just loose enough as to be innocent and just tight enough to show a man her cleavage. The clothes made her look amazing and she knew it.

She hoped the Duke would be too drunk to know it.

Their servants were now long gone from behind them, having refused to go through the enchanted forest and insisted on going around.

All of her father's blustering and threatening had done nothing in the face of their terror.

Now, in the midst of the tall, dark trees, Angela could not see what they had found so terrifying. It was just an old forest, its branches gnarled and tangled above her and the fading sunlight fell irregularly on the ground. The leaves were turning scarlet, orange, and yellow, making it as though she was walking through a tunnel of flames. This was such a curious thought that she focused on it, using it to distract herself from the approaching introduction to a lustful old man.

*************************************

Master Splinter had given the order to stay away from the main hallways for the day.

This meant that Leo could not go to his favorite spot beneath the old weeping willow to meditate. There were only a few more weeks until the weather became too cold for him to venture out for any real span of time and the turtle wanted to make the most of it. Thus he was rather on edge today.

After a rather pointless argument with Raph that had almost culminated in an all out fist fight, a silent uncomfortable lunch, and a few restless hours in the library, the eldest prince had retreated to his room.

Now, as he gazed out of his window across the sweeping front gardens of the palace, he saw something that made him stiffen.

People.

***************************************

Angela looked up at the silver gates nervously. How had they managed to come across this building so suddenly? Even in a forest like this the towers that were rearing to the sky would have been visible from some way off.

But her father was ecstatic.

"I didn't even know this was here! Come along Angela! Perhaps the master of this wonderful place is in need of a wife!"

And so, in they went, Angela biting the inside of her cheek warily as they did so.

The gardens were… were… beyond description. Every leaf on the trees was a vibrant autumn color and a rich carpet of multicolored leaves blanketed the grass. The flower beds, which should have been brown and wilting, were full of statuary and fall flowers.

It looked as if the entire garden had been designed only for fall weather.

"Hurry up, girl! That outfit of yours is best when seen at sunset!" her father yelled.

Swallowing, she turned her horse to follow her father's mount along the neat gravel pathways that led right up to massive front steps of the castle.

The castle itself was of incredible proportions, the entire building was as large as a small city, with one main building and others branching out from it.

Her father rode right up to the steps and dismounted. "Stay here. I'll go in and introduce you. Oh! I do hope he's not married."

I wish I was back home, she thought glumly, keeping her back straight and proud and her face calm and impassive.

She waited for quite a while and the sun was almost completely gone. The air was bitterly cold and she shivered in her cloak unhappily. How long could it possibly take to schmooze a noble? It had taken less than five minutes with every other noble she had ever encountered.

Just as she was beginning to lose feeling in her legs, a scream shattered the calm of early twilight.

"Father!"

In less than a minute she was running through the huge front doors of the castle and looking wildly around. Where had the scream come from?

Another shriek rent the air and sent her hurtling down the magnificent opening hall and through a doorway. This led her into a dining room big enough to hold several ballrooms. Along the room's far wall was a line of doors. Which one would take her to her father?

"Which one?" she whispered.

As if in answer, one of the doors swung open. She hesitated only a moment before running through it. The hallway was lined by pedestals and paintings of all sorts, doorways on one side and windows on the other. After a few minutes she realized that everywhere she ran the way was lit for her and everywhere else was dark.

That could only mean one thing. The one who had her father wanted her to find him.

"Please let him be alright," she prayed. She didn't like her father but he was family and family was the most important thing.

And so she followed the lit passageway upstairs, down halls, through rooms, up halls, down a dizzying staircase until finally –

There he was, her father, kneeling and begging for mercy at the feet of a rather small, but imposing figure, flanked by four much large shapes.

Angela stepped into the room with enough dignity as to make an empress weep. "What have you done to my father?"

"Nothing, child," came a quiet, well educated voice. "We were merely negotiating the terms that he will have to pay for trespassing."

"Trespassing?"

"He did not ask for permission to enter," the voice explained. "In earlier times he would have been thrown immediately into the dungeons but as we live in more civilized times –"

"What are you going to do to him?" she demanded with forceful politeness.

One of the bigger figures shifted.

"I am not sure," the voice admitted. "Trespassing is a rather serious offense and he is not exactly conducting himself in a suitable manner for a gentleman."

This was entirely true, her father was blubbering on the floor like a baby.

"You, however, young lady, are quite the noblewoman. You hold yourself very well."

Taken a bit aback by the compliment, Angela had to take a moment to steady herself. "Thank you, My Lord. Now please tell me what you are going to do to my father."

"I suppose the ancient traditions should be adhered to, but I do hate to throw anyone in those dungeons… but I suppose-"

"Wait!" She stepped between her father and the shadowy figures. "What about me? I trespassed as well."

"Yes, but you did so out of concern for a loved one. That can be pardoned. Your father, however, trespassed freely."

"Please don't do this, he didn't know."

"Ignorance does not excuse one from disobeying the law, Miss."

"Take me," the words were out of her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. "Take me instead. In my father's place."

Her father froze and stared up at her as though he had never seen her before. The figures all stiffened.

"You would do this?" the voice asked sharply. "Of your own free will? Understanding that you may never leave?"

"Yes," she said in a soft, firm voice.

"Your word, child."

"I give you my word."

Like one in a dream, Angela lifted her arm to the shadowy figure, extending her hand for a formal handshake.

"We accept."

The young woman's eyes widened in horror as a knobbly, leathery claw-like hand reached from the shadows to shake her trembling hand.

Who were these people?

"Raphael. Michelangelo. Please escort this man back to his horses."

Two of the larger figures stepped forward, revealing tall, green-skinned creatures that walked like men.

"Good-bye, Father," she called softly, fighting to keep the shaking out of her knees and the sob out of her voice.

Her father could only stare at her as the green men took each took an arm and led him from the room.

"Child, what is your name?"

"I am Angela of Verity." She gave a brief curtsy and staggered a bit as she straightened up.

"Ms. Angela, perhaps you should sit down," the voice said, sounding concerned. "Donatello, please get our guest a cup of tea. Leonardo, the lights."

In a moment the torches around the room lit and she found herself looking at a giant rat and an equally large turtle. She staggered as the world warped around her and was immediately steadied by a firm grip that lead her to a nearby chair.

"Take deep breaths," said a new voice. It was much younger than the first voice, though just as serious. It took her a moment to process the green face in front of her.

The only thing that kept her from gasping or screaming outright was the sheer oddness of him. What was most disturbing, more than the green skin or the shell, were the eyes.

This creature had dark brown eyes – just like a human's. And they were exceedingly kind and serious.

"Are you alright?" it asked in a male voice.

"Yes…" she said cautiously.

"Good," he said. He glanced over his shoulder towards the doorway. "Where's Donny with the tea?"

"Perhaps," the giant rat said calmly. "It would be wise to introduce ourselves to our guest."

"Umm… okay." The green man looked at her and bowed formally. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Angela. My name is Leonardo."

He was very tall and rather strong-looking with a blue mask tied over his eyes.

"The pleasure's mine," she responded with a weak smile, raising a slightly shaky hand.

Leonardo raised a large, green three-fingered hand and gently clasped her hand. After a few shakes, he released her hand.

"I don't mean to sound rude," Angela began weakly. "But… what are you?"

"My brothers and I are turtles and Master Splinter here is a rat," he explained quietly.

"You're Master Splinter?" she asked the rat.

"I am," he said, nodding his head politely.

"I've got the tea!"

Another turtle entered the room bearing a tray carrying an exquisite china teapot and several matching tea cups. This one was also male, wore a purple mask, and seemed to be a bit smaller than Leonardo.

"Here we go," he said, setting the tray on a nearby table.

The new turtle poured a cup of tea and handed it to her with a friendly smile. "My name is Donatello, it's nice to meet you, Angela."

Donatello had a gentle air about him and kind light brown eyes.

"You as well." She shook his hand and took the cup.

Taking a sip, the young woman watched the strange creatures as Donatello poured three more cups of tea and handed two of them to his companions, keeping one for himself.

It was…beyond bizarre to be sitting in a – she glanced around cautiously – a parlor drinking tea with two giant turtles and a giant rat.

What was going to happen to her, now? She had first supposed that she would be locked in the dungeons instead of her father, but no one seemed even the slightest bit interested doing her any harm.

They did, however, keep glancing at her as though they had never seen anyone like her before.

After another minute, the two turtles who had grabbed her father reappeared in the doorway. One was lean and wearing an orange mask, while the other was heavily muscled with a red mask.

"My sons," Master Splinter said properly, setting down his teacup. "This is Ms. Angela of Verity. She is our guest."

"Guest?" she repeated.

"Hi, there!" said the orange turtle, bouncing up to her and offering his green hand. "My name's Michelangelo, but you can call me Mikey!"

"Hello."

"Hey," the red turtle greeted her gruffly with a rough wave. "Name's Raphael."

"Hello." She was starting to feel light-headed, even with the tea. This was just too much to take in at once. Turtles that could walk and talk like men?

"Oh dear," Master Splinter commented, looking at her kindly. "Are you feeling a bit overwhelmed, Miss?"

"Just a bit," Angela admitted.

"Well then, we'll give you a room and tomorrow we can discuss the terms of your stay here."

"No! Please, tell me what's going on here? Why am I here? What is going to happen to me?"

There was a moment of tense silence before the rat answered quietly, "All you need now is that you are now our permanent guest in our home, or until I deem it fit to release you from the agreement. You will be given a room and allowed to do as you like. However, you are not allowed to leave our lands and we request that you join us for dinner."

"But –" she began, then broke off. Judging by the look in his eyes, she wasn't going to get anymore information out of him. "Very well. I understand."

"Good. Leonardo, would you be so kind as to lead this young lady to her room?"

**************************************

Angela walked silently along in Leonardo's equally silent wake.

"Your home is very beautiful," she said at last, just to say something.

"Yeah," he said slowly, looking around. "I guess it is. But it's better when the sun is up."

There was another uncomfortable silence.

"Well," Leonardo said awkwardly. "We all hope that you'll be comfortable here and if you need anything at all, all you have to do is ask one of us."

"Thank you."

"Well, this is your room. Ummm… there are servants who'll be around to help you with… clothes and stuff." He turned from the specified door and looked down at her with his strange human eyes. "Good night, Miss Angela."

"Just Angela, please, Leonardo."

"Just Leo, Angela."

And she went into the room.

**Review, por favor!**


	12. Angela

**Okay, I got a really disturbing review from one of my readers saying that Angela reminded her of a Mary-Sue. Oh Please God NOOO! Tell me what I should change s'il vous plait!**

Chapter 11

Angela

"_Wow, she was really brave!" a younger girl whispered._

"_How come she was getting married when she was sixteen?"_

"_Who cares? What happened then?"_

Master Splinter stood in his garden with the mothers of his sons.

"She's the one," Leonardo's mother said. "Angela of Verity is the one for my son.

"Don't let her leave."

The king sighed. "So be it."

*******************************

Angela spent awoke with a shock and eyed her surroundings with a wondering eye.

For one thing, her bedroom was something out of a fairytale. The walls were painted a soft sky blue, accentuated by beautiful white wooden wall trimmings including white furniture. Against one wall was a fireplace big enough for her to sit in with a grate in the shape of rolling waves and directly across the room was a white bed with soft blue blankets and pillows piled high in sinfully comfortable heaps and navy curtains with golden tassels tying them to the high bed posts. The carpet was navy blue as well and plush beneath her feet, there were soft, regal armchairs facing the fireplace, a bookshelf against the wall directly to the right of the door, and an enormous window on the far wall. Two enormous wardrobes stood on either side of the window and a series of bare shelves and coat hooks dotted the wall everywhere. It was as if this room had been made specifically for her and had been merely waiting for her arrival.

The first night had been one of surprises, especially when she met the servants.

She had just finished gaping in awe at the amazing chamber when it occurred to her that she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

Immediately, water had appeared out of nowhere, twisting in midair like an airborne serpent. With easy efficiency, the liquid whisked over to one of the wardrobes and produced a silken night gown.

With shaking hands, she removed her clothes and changed into the offered shift.

The water had taken her clothes and somehow made them disappear. It had then offered a cup of something very warm and sweet and pulled the sheets of the bed. Once she had accepted both the cup and the bed, the water had made the candles above the bed's headboard light and had whisked away to let her drink and fall asleep in peace.

Very, very strange.

But undoubtedly very interesting.

She shoved aside the bedclothes and pulled the bed curtains open to let the soft light of dawn hit her face. The splendor of her room was even more pronounced in the daytime, showing off the dainty, skilled work of details she hadn't noticed the night before.

Stepping from the bed to the floor, she was immediately confronted by the water stream that had waited on her last night. It wrapped around her wrists and gently drew her toward a table she hadn't noticed the night before. On it was a bowl of fresh fruit, another bowl of what looked like oatmeal, a plate of toast, several jars of jelly, and a mug of something steaming.

It took a moment for Angela to decide that she was indeed hungry enough to take this offering – her stomach was informing her rather forcefully that she had had nothing to eat since lunch the previous day – at which point she hurried over to the table, which was set only for one person, and dug into the meal with gusto.

It was all delicious; especially the warm liquid that they served her, it was the same stuff she had received last night. Rather disturbingly, whenever it looked as though she was about to drain out the last of the beverage, the water swirled over the cup, and quite suddenly the cup would be full again.

"So," she said, swallowing a bit of toast. "I assume you're supposed to be the servants?"

The water swirled around her twice.

"Ummm… okay, well… it's nice to make your acquaintance, I guess. I'm Angela."

The water brushed against her cheek in an obviously affectionate manner.

When she was finished with her meal, the water swirled around the table three times and the dirty dishes and leftover food vanished. Very, very strange.

Once again the water tugged her by her wrists from her chair and led her over to the wardrobe. Before she even knew what was happening, the young woman was surrounded by a tornado of cloth and water.

As the tumult subsided, Angela found that her nightgown was gone, replaced by a dress unlike any she had ever seen in her entire life. The main body of the dress was a rich navy blue, the sleeves hanging just past her wrists, and the triangular portion in front of her chest was a light blue that matched the belt that looped around her waist, secured by a silver buckle. She was wearing soft slippers and a lovely silver necklace matching the belt hung around her neck. Reaching up to investigate what they had done with her hair, she found her hair half pulled back with a silk ribbon.

The young woman spent a moment searching for a mirror until she finally found one hanging on the inside of one of the wardrobes door. Ignoring the hundreds of beautiful dresses crammed inside, she stared at her reflection.

Angela of Verity no longer looked like a girl being auctioned off to the highest bidder, like this she looked like a princess – a bewildered princess, but a princess nonetheless.

"Are you sure that this is what I should where?" she asked the room at large.

There was no answer.

"I'll take that as a yes. What do I do now?"

There was a soft click as the door of her room opened.

After a moment of hesitation, she walked out of her room and into the rest of the castle.

***************************

That turtle – Leonardo, was it? – had been right. The castle looked incredible in the daylight; it was now possible to see the paintings and sculptures and tapestries and vases and… everything. There was nothing but the finest work displayed in every room, though she noticed that some rooms were smaller and cozier than others. Probably where Master Splinter and his turtle sons talked and…whatever else large human-like animals did.

She had been walking for about an hour when she began to notice something rather odd.

There were no mirrors. Not one.

Now the young woman went through the castle looking specifically for a mirror. She found stairs and went down, staring at the artwork. Judging from the view from the windows, she guessed that she was now on second floor of the enormous palace…which would put her room on the third floor.

She spent a few moments staring out of a window, admiring the landscape, and was just about to try and find her way downstairs when she heard raised voices.

Her aunt's voice immediately spoke up in her head, _Eavesdroppers always come to a sticky end._

Angela knew she shouldn't listen… knew it…

But here she was in a strange castle, being held captive – admittedly very hospitable captivity, but captivity nevertheless – she should at least find out _something_ about her captors. But what if they –

BANG

A door a little ways down the hall opened so viciously that it bounced off the wall and the turtle with the red mask… Raphael… stalked out, followed closely to the blue turtle Leonardo.

"Raph, we have no choice. You heard what Master Splinter said, we have to-" He broke off immediately when he caught sight of her.

"Good morning," she greeted, deciding to ignore what had just happened. "How are you all this morning?"

The two gaped at her as though they had never seen her before.

"Good morning," Leo gasped out at last. "We're okay… and yourself?"

"Very well. And thank you for my room, it is perfect."

"Don't look at me for that," Raphael grunted. "That was all Leo."

She smiled politely at the blue turtle. "Thank you very much."

He smiled weakly back. "It was my pleasure."

"I was wondering…" she said hesitantly.

"What?" Raphael demanded roughly.

"Could you tell me how to get to the garden?"

The red turtle stiffened. "Why?"

She noticed his strange eyes were the oddest color of amber – like a gypsy's. "I like taking walks in the morning."

"Really." He did not seem convinced, probably thinking that she would try to escape.

"That's enough, Raph," Leo said sharply. He turned to her. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"So you can make sure that I don't try to run off?" she guessed shrewdly.

He nodded seriously. "Yes."

Angela shrugged. "You can do as you like, this is your castle after all." She glanced at Raphael. "Are you coming as well, Raphael?"

He stared darkly at her before turning and walking away.

"I suppose not."

***************************************

Leo was still in shock.

The day had started on a tense note, everyone in the castle intensely aware of the young woman sleeping upstairs. No one had said a word during breakfast, not even Mikey had been able to crack a joke. Meditation had been a disaster, with he and his brothers too wound up worrying about what the girl would do when she woke up to concentrate. Training had been worse, no one paying the slightest attention to how their weapons were falling. In the end, Splinter had dismissed his sons.

Raph had immediately shouted that this was hopeless.

"We should just let the girl go back to the rest of her kind and save ourselves the trouble of listening to her scream!" he had yelled.

"But she didn't scream," Mikey had pointed out, his voice raw with hope. "Maybe she can break the spell!"

"Great," Raph had snarled sarcastically. "Then she can love us all and have four husbands! She can't break the spell!"

"It is possible that she was just in shock last night," Donny offered heavily. "She might panic this morning when she sees us again."

It had been decided that they would all leave her alone and hide themselves until dinner. But that hadn't been enough for Raph and he had stormed out of the room. Leo had followed him.

And run straight into the girl.

Now he was leading her through the garden silently, marveling at how she wasn't screaming or even whimpering.

"Are you a swordsman?"

Well,_ that_ had been unexpected. "Yes."

"I saw your swords… I've never seen anything like them before." She looked at him. "What are they?"

"They're called katanas."

Angela looked at them askance. "I see."

"You're not a katana person."

She sniffed and twitched her skirt. "They're used only by the tricksters and cowards in the east."

He felt a sharp pang of annoyance. "They were used by ninjas."

"I know. The ones I preferred from the stories are the samurai. They fought against the ninjas."

For a moment, he scrambled for something to say. "Y-you like the samurai because they fought ninja?"

"Yes." She looked out over the apple orchards. "Your gardens are incredible."

Leo's jaw hung open. "I am a ninja."

The blonde's head snapped around and she gaped back. "Ah…"

Her face smoothed out into a vague smile. "That would explain why you were getting so upset."

They stood in silence.

"Why are you so interested in my katanas?"

She shrugged. "I have only ever heard stories of them. Are they as good as western swords?"

"What do you know of western swords?"

"I prefer the sabre, it's lighter than a broadsword, not so light as the rapier, more agile than the arming sword, and longer than the dirk." She caught the look on his face. "Yes, I can fight."

"That's very impressive, the katana is a very reliable weapon and I prefer it myself… We practice every morning, if you would like to keep your skills sharp."

"Are you any good?"

"I am… relatively skilled."

Angela smiled. "If you're not one of the best I've ever seen I will be very surprised."

She turned and began to walk back to the castle. "But I've been wrong before. I do hope you're good enough to give me a challenge, though."

***************************************

"I have changed my mind." The Lady looked characteristically solemn. "She is not just the one. She is absolutely perfect."

****************************************

As time went on, Angela became very much a part of their family. She trained with them in the mornings – proving herself very capable indeed with a sabre – walked through the gardens afterwards, and ate lunch in her room. She spent several hours in the afternoon reading in the library before taking another walk before dinner. Her evenings were spent with the boys, as she came to think of them as, and Master Splinter at dinner and later in the parlor she had met them in talk or merely pass an hour or so in pleasant company. Sometimes she was accompanied on her walks and sometimes she wasn't.

The blonde was very fond of them all, especially Master Splinter, Leo, and Donny. Mikey and Raph were at times just too much for her calm and proper manners.

November passed and the early morning frost gave way to December snow. Angela learned that after a certain point, none of the turtles ventured out into the frozen gardens, and took her walks with Master Splinter instead.

Christmas saw the castle decorated beautifully but there was very little cheer among the occupants, save for Mikey, who decided that since he couldn't go sledding, he would mattress surf instead.

New Years was also a rather somber event, though Angela did stay up until the huge grandfather clock hidden away in the only room she was forbidden to go into, chimed midnight. They had spent an hour talking after that, discussing the importance of celebrating the New Year. Odd yes, but when Raph got more than four cups of ale in him, God only knew what he would argue over.

All in all, Angela would have to say that she loved it here. No one trying to marry her off, she could do as she pleased, and she had good friends.

Life in the enchanted castle was good.

**Okay, what do you think? Review!**


	13. In the Snow

**Here's another chapter for you, so be so kind as to tell me what you think. And tell me if the girl seems too much like a Mary Sue!**

Chapter 12

In the Snow

"_Here you all are!" a woman just as beautiful as the storyteller entered the room._

"_Shush!" hissed one of the small girls sprawled on the ground. "I like this story!"_

_The newcomer spread her skirts gracefully and sat among the children."I'd like to hear this story as well."_

"_Okay!"_

"_Fine, you can stay, but you gots to be quiet!"_

"It's going very well," Leonardo's mother commented happily.

"Is it?" Splinter thought of Angela barely speaking two words to Leonardo whenever they were together.

"Oh yes!" Rachel squealed. "It won't be long now!"

Vittoria looked rather impatient. "Yes, yes, Leo has his girl. But there are three others we should be focusing on!"

All at once, Mary Brass, who had been gazing dreamily up at the trees in the distance, leapt to her feet. "She's here! My son's girl is coming!"

******************************************

Winter, Gwen Rendon thought, was a miserable time to be an apprentice. Being an apothecary's assistant in the winter was sheer hell. Trekking about in the snow to find special plants, and digging to see if there was anything usable left from the previous seasons, she was freezing her butt off even at high noon. She checked her satchel.

"Let's see here… yarrow, wormwood, a little smearwort, hawthorn… I hope this coneflower is still good, a few leaves of catnip, feverfew, comfrey, and lucky me some poppy seeds!"

It was a good haul for the middle of January and made the terrible burning in her fingers worth it. But what she was really after was some chamomile. The chances of finding it out here were slim to none but Mrs. Kavroys was running very low, so she continued deeper into the dark forest. Technically she was not allowed to enter the forest, but she needed to find some chamomile and there might be some shielded from the snow.

Gwen was a bit on the small side at five foot four and pathetically skinny, with light wavy brown hair with blond highlights, fair skin and the lightest sprinkling of freckles about her nose, and large clear hazel eyes. Her clothes were plain and a bit too thin for mucking about in the snow for herbs: a dark brown skirt that, despite its upsetting tendency to trip her up – not that it was very hard, she was very clumsy – it was extremely warm, a white long-sleeved blouse, sturdy boots that were slightly too big, and a huge forest green cloak.

"Come on!" she said aloud. "If I hurry up, I can return the books to Mr. Vanith and get some more."

But there was nothing on the ground except for some wilted catnip. With an annoyed grunt, Gwen marched further through the trees. Nothing.

The sun was starting to sink towards the west, signaling that she should start heading back to the village.

But… maybe if she walked just a little farther?

Just five more minutes, she decided. Then I'm going home.

There was less snow here, but the ground was still treacherous with knobby roots snarling up the ground and Gwen found she had to watch where she put her feet. She picked her way cautiously through the forest, keeping her eyes carefully on the cunning clutching hands of the roots.

Aha! Some coneflower. Wilting, yes, but good enough for her purposes.

With a wide smile, she hurried toward the sad little shoots – and promptly tripped. Ignoring the hot tears of pain and embarrassment that seared her eyes, she stood up and more warily walked to the little patch. Falling to her abused knees, she gathered up the tender plants and slipped them into her bag.

Climbing to her feet once again, she turned towards her home. And paused again.

Just a little farther?

Why not?

Gwen went further and soon found herself climbing as the path she was breaking began slanting uphill. After several agonizing minutes of fighting her way up the mount, the young apprentice looked down at a small pond nestled a little ways away at the foot of the rise she was standing on.

And… unless she was much mistaken there was a patch of chamomile right on the edge of the little body of water. Biting her lip in delight, she very carefully slid down the hill. She was taking absolutely no chance with her terrible tendency to trip over her own feet in a place like this.

With twice the amount of concern she usually spent on her work, she plucked the precious growth from the frozen ground and tucked it carefully away. Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet and started back up the hill.

Step. Step. Step.

Crunch.

The short girl barely had time to see the rabbit hole she had blundered into before she fell over backwards. The downward momentum of her tumbling body wrenched her foot from its trap with sharp and lasting pain.

There was a crack as her head hit a protruding root.

The last thing she remembered was someone crying her name.

*******************************************

"GWEN!" Mary Brass, former head librarian of Rosacaea's fabled library, stared for a moment at the unconscious girl.

Biting back a most unladylike curse, the spirit turned her back on the helpless child and barreled back towards the castle.

*******************************************

Donatello leaned closely to his books, forcing his weary eyes to focus on the old-fashioned letters of the book of enchantments. "Let's see… mandrake, check… meadowsweet, check… poppy, check, wormwood…"

He reached towards the bottle of the wormwood.

And knocked it to the ground, shattering the glass bottle and ruining his last bit of wormwood extract.

Looking down at the mess on the floor, the young turtle tilted his head back and took a deep breath. Okay, so he had no more wormwood, he could just go and get some more.

"Boots please," he said to the room at large, knowing the servants would hear him. "And a coat and cloak."

Five minutes later, he was striding out the front doors of the castle. It wasn't until he was outside of the gates did he realize what he had done. None of them were allowed alone outside of the gates and here he was striding along the road that led to the village as though he was still human. He turned, fully intending to go back through the gates and try another potion.

But… what if this one was the one?

What if he could fix this for just a few hours outside?

The clothes he was wearing would protect him for a few hours in the snow…

Oh, what the hell, he hadn't been outside the gates since the curse.

He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and set out into the forest.

****************************************

About one hour later, Donny had found a good patch of wormwood and immediately began his task of sweeping a sizable amount of the plant into his bag. It took about three and half minutes, after which his hands were numb, and after he was finished, he stood up.

Heading back home, he spotted the huge top of an enormous willow tree towering over the rest of the trees. Thinking of the dwindling supply of willow bark in his workshop, he promptly changed directions and trotted through the woods.

The venerable old tree stood on the edge of a small pond, bending over it like a person looking down at its reflection.

Smiling at his good luck, Donny carefully began scraping pieces of old wood from the trunk, careful not to pull off too much in any one spot. As he straightened back up, he shivered.

Okay, that was a big sign that he should stop fooling around and get back home! It was even starting to snow, and judging by the sheer fact that the snow was hitting ground shielded by such heavy tree cover, it had to be positively pouring.

As he began to hurry away something caught his eye.

His heart stuttered to a stop.

A body.

There was a body lying on the ground on the other side of the pond.

Before he could process anything else, the prince was sprinting around the frozen puddle and falling to his knees beside the still figure.

A girl about his own age lay very still on the cold ground, eyes closed, body completely motionless, not even trying to shiver.

Bad sign; he pressed his fingers to her throat and felt a slow weak pulse beating feebly beneath her skin.

Not even thinking about what he was doing, he carefully wrapped his arms around her and lifted her.

His mind immediately began berating him. Hadn't he learned anything from the first girl who had seen them after the curse? Good intentions or not, no human would see him as anything else but a monster. Certainly they would not accept help from him!

Except Angela, but Donny was privately under the suspicion that the noblewoman had ice running through her veins and was unable to feel anything but cool politeness.

But this girl needed help, like, thirty minutes ago. She had hit her head a while ago and it was only the bitter cold that had forced the blood to clot too fast for her to bleed to death. Judging by the awkward way it was hanging, he guessed that she had broken her ankle. Add to all of that the terrible chill of the air and she was in serious need of medical attention.

With a deep sigh – which burned his lungs – he walked home.

**********************************

Gwen was having the oddest dream. She dreamt that she was lying on a warm and comfortable bed while a giant… something wrapped her swollen ankle.

Trying to clear her head, she blinked sleepily, only to be offered a cup by another… something. Dreamily, she obediently drank it all and was almost instantly struck by a wave of extreme exhaustion.

She dropped off back to sleep.

**********************************

Donny sighed in relief as the girl's hazel eyes fluttered closed again. "You sure do know how to make a good sedative, Master."

"Thank you, Donatello," the old rat said. "But you overestimate me. This merely reminded our guest how tired she was."

"Well," the younger man said, finishing off her ankle splint and tenderly setting the injured limb down. "What do we do now? I mean… she can't just walk out of here with that ankle in the snow and she got a small concussion in her accident – whatever that was."

"What do you think of her, my son?" his father suddenly asked.

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me what you see."

Brow furrowed in confusion, Donny focused his attention on the young woman lying on a couch in one of the main parlors. She was undoubtedly very pretty, with her fair skin, soft brown-blond hair and sweet features that were accentuated by the freckles across her nose. "She's not beautiful like Angela… but then, I don't think anyone is beautiful the way Angela is. This girl is… she looks like she would be a very nice person. Sweet, I guess."

Splinter nodded somberly. "She stays here."

"_W-what?!"_

"Donatello, please take our guest to a room she will be comfortable in. And see if you can get some servants to change her clothes, those do not seem to be doing her any good."

And with that, the king strode away, leaving his son gaping after him.

*************************************

Her body ached lightly as she awoke, centering primarily at her right ankle and head.

What had happened?

She had been out collecting herbs for Mrs. Kavroys. She had been looking for chamomile… and then she had fallen and…

She couldn't remember what had happened after that.

The young woman knew she was no longer in the forest. Judging by the sensations around her, she was in a bed covered with gorgeously warm blankets.

The bed was so soft and wonderful that for a moment she didn't want to wake up, she just wanted to drop off to sleep again. But no, she had to get up and see where she was.

Gwen opened her eyes (prompting a terrible headache) and sat up (worsening the headache). She was indeed in a bed, a bed for… for… a princess! It was huge and sturdy, made up with thick, soft purple blankets and fluffy lilac pillows. The bed had a wooden headboard and slender wooden pillars at each corner.

The room was just as beautiful as the bed. The walls were gentle lavender with furniture the same creamy light brown as the bed. There were several wardrobes directly across from the bed and the wall on her right had a huge stone fireplace, in which soft embers were still glowing – providing light for the otherwise dark room – and several chairs stood directly in front of it, facing away from her. Flanking the heath on either side were bookshelves – every available space crammed with books.

An audible gasp escaping her, the girl tried to climb out of the bed to further examine this incredible treasure. However, as soon as she tried to move her right foot, a hot stab of agony seized her.

Clutching at the sheets in agony, she settled for sitting on the bed and continuing to survey the room.

The bookshelves covered the entire wall except for the fireplace's area. On the wall to the left of the bed was a desk, covered, not in jewels or combs, but in paper and pens. This was a scholar's room! Turning, wondering what could be better than the bookshelves and desk, she looked at the wall the bed was pressed against. There was a window directly to the bed's left, a huge portal, higher and longer than she was tall, covered by light purple curtains, and meeting the window at its base was a daintily patterned window seat. On the bed's left were two wardrobes, which seemed to be bursting with dresses from what she could see.

The anguish caused by her foot had diminished somewhat so she eased the blankets aside to see her bare foot wrapped and splinted.

Confused by this, Gwen quickly gave herself a once over. Her clothes were gone, having been replaced by a simple nightgown that tied at the neck – she wondered who had changed her. Her headache was radiating from an injury on her head that was bandaged as well.

She must have hit her head and lost consciousness. She looked around at the shadowed room, hoping to see the one who had rescued her.

"Are you awake?"

She gasped and clutched the blankets to her chest. "Who's there?"

"Don't be afraid," the voice said quickly and she saw a dark figure rise from one of the chairs and turn to face her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Donatello, but most people call me Donny. I found you in the forest and brought you back here for medical attention; you have a broken ankle and a slight concussion."

"Thank you, Mr. Donny. I'm Gwen Rendon."

Donatello sounded to be a young man about her own age. "Ummm… just call me Donny or Don, okay? So… Gwen, huh? What were you doing herb hunting in the middle of January?"

"I'm an apothecary's assistant, you see, and she needed some more supplies to last through the winter so…"

"Really? What kind of apothecary?"

"She's more of a general practitioner, but she does specialize in child birth."

"A midwife, huh? That's cool, how far along are you?"

"Excuse me?"

Nervous laughter. "I meant in your studies."

"Oh. Well. I've been learning from her for about a year and a half."

"That's a long time."

"Not really. We only arrived in the village less than two years ago."

"What village?" Donny asked sharply.

"Westwood."

"Ah." Obvious relief there.

"Donny? Ummm… when will I be able to go home? I mean, I know my ankle is broken and the snow is pretty bad, but what do you think will come faster, my ankle healing or spring coming?"

There was a long silence.

"Donny?"

"Gwen, I need to show you something, and then I'm going to introduce you to someone, alright? And while I'm doing this you must promise not to scream."

In the process of easing onto the floor to stand on her uninjured foot, the girl paused. "What do you mean? What are you going to do?"

The boy sounded very grim and sad. "I'm going to turn on the lights and then I'm going to introduce you to my father. Please do not scream."

She clutched one of the pillars at the foot of the bed and nodded. "Alright, I promise."

The figure stepped closer to her and motioned with a hand. Immediately the room brightened, torches and candelabra lighting all over the room.

And Gwen saw Donatello.

He wasn't a boy.

He wasn't even human.

He was a turtle.

Her knuckles turned white around the pillar, her mouth opened wide, and her eyes even wider.

"Gwen?" His voice was suddenly very far away and then the world was tilting crazily and the next thing she knew she was crashing to the floor, saved only by the turtle's gentle arms as it – he – caught her…

She awoke to the sound of two men talking.

Had the turtle who called himself Donatello been a dream? Surely, it had to be. Turtles did not walk and talk like men! It wasn't possible.

Hadn't Donatello said she had a slight concussion? Could that have caused her to hallucinate? See a turtle instead of a young man?

Here goes nothing.

She opened her eyes.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Master," Donatello's voice said. "She suffered a concussion, I'm sure she's got to be in a minor state of shock, she just fainted, and now you want to tell her _that_?"

She was back on the bed in the princess' room.

To her right, in unmistakable detail, was the giant turtle. He was taller than she was – no large feat, she thought wryly – and had a purple mask on.

She glanced at the room around her and had a sneaking suspicion that this room had been his idea.

"She must be told. I want no illusions –" the other voice was much older than Donatello's, probably the father he had spoken of.

She looked at the voice's owner and sat up straight. A rat.

A giant rat almost as tall as she was.

A rat and a turtle.

Talking and arguing.

Standing upright.

For heaven's sake, the rat was holding a walking staff and wearing a robe!

"Hello?" Good. Her voice wasn't trembling. "Are you Donatello?"

The turtle whipped around to face her; he – it – had pale brown eyes under that mask. "Ummm, yeah that's me."

"And I am Master Splinter," the rat said courteously. "Are you feeling alright, Miss Rendon?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But I have to ask. Are you, Donatello, a turtle? And are you, Splinter, a rat?"

What could have been a smile spread across the rat's grey whiskers. "Yes, child, we are."

"Oh."

"And there are more of us."

"How many more?"

"Just three others, Donatello's brothers, you see. And Angela, our permanent guest."

"Oh," she said again, not having the courage to ask what Angela was.

Now Master Splinter and Donatello looked very grim.

"Miss Rendon," the rat began. "I am afraid that there is something else about us that you do not know."

"You-you don't eat humans, do you?" she asked faintly.

Master Splinter chuckled. "No, no, child. You see… once you have entered onto our grounds, you cannot leave."

She felt frozen. "I don't understand."

The elderly creature folded its – his – claws – hands – over the head of its – his – walking stick. "Even when you are healed and can walk easily again, we will not let you leave. You will stay here as our guest."

Gwen felt like she was going to be sick. "Why? What about my life? My family?"

"I am sorry," he said gently, turning to leave, his bald tail swishing slowly behind him.

"Gwen?" Donatello reached out a hand to her, and winced as she jerked away.

"Please don't."

"Listen," he said softly. "This is your room and you can go anywhere you'd like in the castle except the great hall. If you need anything, just ask. You can have anything you want by asking for it."

"I want to go home."

The turtle's face grew terribly sad. "Anything but that. I'm so very sorry."

"Please leave me alone." She turned her hazel eyes on him.

He went.

It was only after the door had closed behind him, did she allow the hot tears to spill down her cheeks.

But even through her tears, she clenched her small fists. She was going to find a way out of here.

**************************************

Donny Hamato had never felt as low as he did right then.

For the first night in over two years, he did not spend the night in his bed or workshop. He sat outside Gwen's room and listened to the miserable girl cry until she finally fell asleep.

**Poor Gwen! Please Review!**


	14. Gwen

**I am so disappointed with all of you. Almost a week and no reviews?**

**No hard feelings though, enjoy!**

Chapter 13

Gwen

"_Aw! Poor lady," said the smallest girl, cradling a teddy bear to her chest._

"_What's it like to faint?"_

"_Who cares?"_

"_Yeah, shut up!"_

"_Watch your manners, young man."_

The next morning found Gwen curled up under the covers, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to convince herself that when she opened her eyes, she would be back in her lumpy bed back home.

She peeked out through her lashes and saw pale sunlight streaming into the room through the violet drapes. Heart sinking into the region of her broken ankle, she scooted over to the edge of the bed and very carefully slid off of it, grasping one of the bed pillars to steady herself.

There was a sudden whoosh besides her as if a gust of wind had burst through the window and she was suddenly offered a crutch by a glittering mass of floating dust.

The young woman reluctantly took it and watched as the powder drew her attention to a small table in front of the fireplace set for breakfast for one. She hesitated and gasped as the shimmery bits of…sand?... gently wrapped around her wrists and led her to the chair.

There were fruits in a ceramic bowl, a plate piled high with French toast, a pitcher full of syrup, another pitcher of milk, a teapot and pots of sugar and honey.

Gwen stared at all. This kind of spread was only ever seen in her village for the great feasts of Christmas and New Years, and here these people were offering to a prisoner for breakfast!

"Absolutely not. I don't want any of this. I'm not hungry," she said loudly to the…dust?... that was floating about her.

The sand whisked to a cup on the table and offered it to her, much like a child would shyly offer a bouquet of flowers to his mother.

"No thank you!" she said with forced politeness, pushing the tea away. "I don't want tea."

Immediately, the first cup was replaced with another filled with milk.

"No thank you."

Whoosh

Another filled with hot chocolate.

"No thank you," she sighed, turning away to look for her clothes.

And was confronted by a cup filled with… something that smelled utterly delicious. Faced with such a delectable scent, her stomach loudly protested.

"Is… is that… coffee?"

The sand gently pressed the mug into her free hand. Despite the fact that the liquid within the beaker was steaming hot, the container showed no inclination to get any hotter than the warm ceramic already clutched in her hand.

Gwen had tasted coffee only a few times and each time it had been bitter, made all the worse by the knowledge that it could be so better with the addition of some horrifically expensive sugar and milk.

But now… there was a pitcher full of milk and a pot full of sugar with her reach!

She bit her lip. She did not want to accept anything these people – animals – whatever – offered her, but now…

The young woman stared for a long moment at the cup in her hand before finally squaring her skinny shoulders. There is no point, she decided, in trying to outwit a bunch of oversized turtles and their rat-father on an empty stomach. I might as well use this stuff they're giving me against them.

With that comforting thought, she hobbled back to the table, trying not to spill the precious beverage on the carpet or herself – why should I care if this carpet gets dirty? – and sat down.

She had been wrong; this was not like the spreads in her village for great holidays, it was better. Far better.

The French toast was light and fluffy, made by hands that knew what they were doing and did not have to skimp on anything, and topped with generous helpings of syrup, honey and even a few cherries it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted.

It took her a few tries to get the coffee just right. Though she was generally not a wasteful person, the thought that these people were holding her prison loosened up her scruples enough to go through cup after cup of coffee and spoonfuls and spoonfuls of sugar and milk. At about the seventh try, she lifted the mug – which had magically cleaned itself after each experiment – and tasted heaven.

"Mmmmm!"

Note to self: two spoonfuls of milk and three spoons of sugars make the best coffee.

She was nursing her third cup when the thunderous chime of an unseen grandfather clock informed her that it was now ten o'clock in the morning.

Shocked that she had wasted so much time sitting and munching on food fit for a queen, she tried to stand, forgetting about her ankle, and ended up in a painful heap on the floor.

The sand was instantly there, helping her to her feet and giving her her staff and ushering her over to a silver bathtub sitting in front of the fireplace in the exact same place that her breakfast table had been.

"Well, I guess a bath wouldn't hurt."

On the contrary, the warm water poured into the tub by jugs held up by the magical sand was sinfully warm, the soap was soothing against her skin, the shampoo smelt of lavender, and somehow the bandage around her ankle didn't get wet even after she had submerged it. It was heaven.

When she was done, the sand assisted her out of the tub, good thing too or she might have ended up in a naked tangle on the carpet. It then gave her a fluffy white towel which she wrapped herself in, before the grains whisked around her as though she was caught in a dust cyclone.

As quickly as it had started, the sand dropped away.

Gwen was no longer wet or naked.

She now wore a soft, velvet dress. The main body of the dress was light violet while the shoulders and the sleeves were a much darker, richer shade of violet. The sleeves were very full, comfortably loose down to her elbows and then opening up wide at her hands. It was very elegant and would have been very plain too if not for the silver embroidery at the throat, elbows where it fanned out, and everywhere the two shades of violet touched. A headband sat just behind her bangs, holding her hair back from her face, and she was willing to bet this fancy dress that the headband matched the dress.

Now a silver necklace, made of delicate filigree as slender as thread, was winding around her neck and a slender slipper appeared on her uninjured foot over the clean linen stockings.

A soft "whoa" escaped her lips.

She quickly shook her head firmly. She was _not_ going to let pretty clothes distract her. If these people wanted to dress her in nice clothes – Nice clothes, my foot! These are clothes for a… a… she didn't let herself finish the thought.

Instead, she gripped her staff and hobbled toward the window. What kind of a building was she in? What floor was she on?

The sand was just finishing tying back the drapes when she looked out.

And gasped.

A castle. She was in a castle!

What else could have three floors and such magnificent gardens? They were perfect even under two feet of snow!

Gwen eyed the fresh powder that covered the ground. It was a good thing that she had not been out there when it had fallen. It was a good thing that Don-

That's enough! She told herself sternly.

Yes, he had saved her life by bringing her here and had helped her by bandaging her up – at least she thought that had been him, hadn't Master Splinter said there were other people – turtles – in the castle?

Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the window and made her way over to the door, which was set on the same wall as the desk.

It took her twice as long as it should have to reach the door and then a moment to balance on the staff and open the door.

She stepped out.

Another gasp escaped her.

Plush carpet covered beautiful hardwood floors, tapestries and paintings covered walls, and statues, priceless vases and other treasures sat in the niches. Despite the lack of windows in the hallway, the rich passage gave the appearance of being very brightly lit because of the abundance of candles and lanterns.

With immense trepidation, she stepped out into the hall and looked left and right. Which way?

"Ummm…"

Bang

Left it is.

She hurried down the hall towards the loud bang which after several minutes happened again.

And again.

She passed more rooms and more incredible works of art, following the shouts that had replaced the loud thumps.

Just as she was fairly sure she was getting closer to the source of the commotion, a yell loud enough to shake the floor rang out.

"MIKEY YOU IDIOT WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Gwen spent several minutes standing stock still after that explosion, trying to decide if the risk to go and see exactly what was going on would be worth it.

Of course it was.

She limped along, very grateful indeed for the cane, listening carefully.

The voices seemed to be coming from somewhere below her, which meant that she needed to find some stairs.

The young woman took a right, and then a left, took the middle course in a fork, turned left, and right, and finally came upon a spiral staircase. She stared at it in dismay; Gwen was clumsy on two feet, on one foot and a cane she was sure to be a walking disaster. She didn't even want to think about what kind of state she would be in if she tried going down these steps and tripped.

Sighing, she turned away and began to walk in the opposite direction.

"Ummm, you don't have to walk away, Miss Gwen. I would have gotten out of your way."

She turned and saw the turtle climbing up the same stairs she had just abandoned. Judging by the purple mask and the quiet voice, she was sure that it was the one she had met last night. "Donatello?"

"That's me," the reptile said with what must have been a smile – she was fairly sure the expression was rather strained, despite her lack of experience with such faces. "You can go down the stairs now, if you'd like."

The girl lowered her eyes, embarrassed, then quickly whipped her head up. What did she have to be ashamed of? Nothing! "I can't go down those stairs."

"Oh," his eyes flickered to her ankle. "Right."

There was an awkward pause.

"Would – would you like me to help you down them?"

Her hand firmly gripping her cane, she reviewed her options. She could of course refuse and spend the rest of the day wandering around this castle, searching for a flight of stairs she could safely navigate. And if, as was likely, she failed, she would be stuck here on the third floor of this strange castle until someone came to help her. On the other hand, letting him help her would signal helplessness, something that she did not want to convey.

She was not helpless or weak! So she was not beautiful or strong, she more than made up for it with her mind! She had outwit everyone in her village!

The turtle was still looking at her. The brunette tried to look him over as she did with other boys, but had to give it up.

Oh what the hell, she had to see the rest of the castle anyway if she wanted to formulate an escape.

"Yes, please."

"Okay."

She shrank momentarily away from the big green hand he offered, before gripping it with a fairly steady hand. His hand was cool, leathery, and calloused from hard work.

As he slung her arm around his shoulder, letting her lean her weight on him even as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, she could feel the muscles and strength beneath the green skin and shell. There would be no arm-wrestling with him for her.

Donatello very slowly and gently helped her over to the stairs and then down them.

It was a good thing she hadn't tried to go down these things by herself. She could just picture herself tumbling around and around like a rag doll. With him, every time she began to lose her balance, which was every couple of steps, he would tighten his grip around her and hold her steady.

"You know…" she said at last, unable to bear the silence anymore. "It wasn't very smart to drug me after I got a concussion."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, not sounding the slightest bit out of breath even though he was basically half-carrying her down the stairs.

"In the latest edition of the Journal of Modern Medicine, Dr. Grafton states that allowing a concussed patient to go back to sleep, risks that patient suffering more permanent damage or even death," she stated, promptly tripping.

"Hmph," Donatello mumbled, catching and righting her. "That sounds like a bunch of crap to me. Dr. Malinks states in his "Theory of the Human Mind" that sleep is always the best to heal injuries!"

"That was published almost two years ago! It's been disproved three different times!"

"What?!" he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. "When was that?"

"Last year," she answered, rather startled by his abrupt change in demeanor.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course! It was a major medical discovery!"

Now he was the one who looked startled and after a long moment, he continued guiding her down the stairs.

"What did you say that article was called?" he finally inquired when they reached the bottom of the staircase.

She took her cane and leaned on it carefully. "It was in the Journal of Modern Medicine and it was called… 'Sleep the silent killer' by Dr. Grafton."

The turtle nodded. "I'm going to have to look for that in the library. I can't believe I've never read it."

"You have a library?" Damn, that had come out far too eager and excited.

"Of course," he said, looking surprised, then smiling politely at her. "Would you like to see it?"

It took every bit of her self control to keep from squealing 'yes, yes!' over and over. "No, thank you. Maybe later."

"Alright," he shrugged. "See you later."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Wait!"

"Yes?"

"Um," she fiddled with her skirt. "I just wanted to apologize for last night."

"Oh, don't worry about that. You were upset, it was perfectly understandable –"

"What? No! I meant, I'm sorry for fainting. I said I wasn't going to get upset and as soon as I get a look at you I immediately faint. It was very inconsiderate of me and I understand if you…"

Oh no, she was babbling, something she was prone to do when she got nervous. Gwen only hoped that he would interrupt her before she said something really embarrassing.

Donatello chuckled lightly, cutting her off. "That's alright. I only asked that you didn't scream and you didn't."

"Well, that's what I wanted to say. I'll see you later, I suppose."

"Bye."

***************************************

Well, on the plus side, one of the turtles wasn't a complete jerk. Sure he had told her that she couldn't leave, but it didn't seem as though it was his idea. Besides, he seemed nice enough and definitely had potential to be someone to talk to.

But now it was time to start looking around for a good way to escape.

There was a loud bong from below her feet, telling her that it was now noon.

She set off down the hall, opening every door she came across. There were drawing rooms, a room with a magnificent grand piano sitting in a pale puddle of sunlight – her fingers itched to try out the keys – there were rooms filled with art supplies, there were studies with handsome desks and regal fireplaces, there were rooms, parlors, nurseries crammed with toys and all sorts of amusements for children, there were elegant washrooms and bathrooms, luxurious bedrooms – though none as incredible as hers. There were rooms for playing cards, rooms for playing billiards, informal dining rooms with one wall completely made out of glass window planes, and rooms full of hanging plants and slanting light, music rooms, tea rooms, and countless rooms she couldn't open because they were locked.

By the time she came upon another flight of stairs, another hour and a half had passed, and she was sore from the many times she had fallen and getting hungry.

She tried another door and a cry of delight escaped her.

She had found the library. Shelves and shelves of books covered every inch of the walls, from the floor to the ceiling with rolling staircases to get to the higher shelves. There were other rooms branching from the main room, which was big enough for her entire old house to sit comfortably inside. There was a balcony above her head also crammed with books. On every wall there was a huge fireplace, and groupings of big squashy armchairs and long tables designed for studying were placed at comfortable intervals around the room.

It was a dream come true.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Hello?"

Gwen spun around so quickly, that she lost her balance and her cane and ended up banging her injured foot on the floor. Through the stars that were not dancing across her vision, she saw a slender, beautiful human face gazing concernedly at her.

"Oh my! Are you alright?"

It was a girl the same age as herself, though Gwen felt like a child beside this blonde. She wore an elegant blue dress that perfectly set off her pale blonde hair and silver-grey eyes. "Who are you?"

"My name is Angela of Verity. Are you alright, Ms. Gwen?"

Her brown eyes met the silver ones. "How do you know my name?"

"Leo told me that you had arrived last night. Now please, tell me. Are you alright?"

"Yes. Who is Leo?"

"Leo is one of Donny's brothers," Angela explained. "There are four brothers, Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and of course Michelangelo, and their father Master Splinter."

The strange young woman kindly pulled her to her feet, showing an astonishing amount of strength.

"Thank you."

"Not at all. Now tell me, how are you feeling?"

She blinked. "I said I was feeling –"

The blonde waved a negligent hand. "Not physically. I can see that you aren't. What about mentally?"

There was a moment of silence as Gwen took in this other girl. Seeing a normal human girl – even one as gorgeous as this one – was relieving beyond words.

Before she could even begin to form the words, hot tears seared their way down her cheeks.

"Poor thing," Angela soothed, wrapping a graceful arm around the distraught girl's skinny shoulders. "Come on, let's go get some lunch and talk."

**************************************

That night at dinner, Gwen sat rather shakily between Angela and Donny. Her head still ached from sobbing but she felt better now that she knew that she had company in this 'enchanted castle' as Angela called it that was actually human. Though, she thought timidly, glancing around the table, the rest of them seemed very nice.

Michelangelo was very cheerful and friendly and pumped her hand up and down excitedly, babbling about how it was so cool to now have _t_wo human friends.

Leonardo was very courteous and respectful and told her that they would be happy to help her with anything she needed.

She did not mention wanting to go home.

Raphael spoke coldly to her, and stiffly shook her hand. Even now, he didn't meet her eyes, or Angela's for that matter, as he stabbed moodily at the potatoes, beef, and vegetables artfully arranged on his plate.

Master Splinter had smiled kindly at her as he asked her how her day had been.

Looking at the others around the table, her eyes lingering on Angela's bright smile and Donny's shy brown eyes, Gwen smiled at the rat. "It was okay. I think I'll be fine."

**REVIEW!!!**


	15. Thawing

**This goes out to my awesome reviewer _awesome_girl_from_dwasomeville. _Thanks so much for your view.**

**And now for your enjoyment:**

Chapter 14

Thawing

"_Does that mean she's not going to run away?"_

"_It just means that she accepted that she was going to be there for a while," the woman explained to the little boy in her lap._

"_Oh."_

"_Does breaking a bone hurt?"_

"_Yup, a whole, whole lot!"_

"_What happened after that?"_

Master Splinter stood in his garden with the four mothers.

Mary Brass had finally stopped wringing the hem of her nightdress. "Gwen is finally beginning to forget about running away." The shy smile Donatello had inherited appeared. "She and Donatello had a long argument yesterday on the nature of whether poppy seeds were good. It was so sweet!"

Rachel Sweet wrinkled her nose from where she was spread-eagled on the ground, "Talking about poppy seeds is romantic?"

"It's definitely progress!"

"Speaking of progress," Splinter said quickly. "What about Raphael and Michelangelo?"

"Oh!" Rachel leapt to her feet. "I found the perfect girl! But it'll take a little while for her to get here!"

"How long?"

"Spring."

He nodded grimly. A few more months weren't much considering they had waited for almost three years.

"And Raphael?"

Vittoria, leaning on the trunk of a nearby tree, sighed deeply. "I haven't found anyone. Yet."

"What's taking so long?" the Lady asked.

The gypsy whipped dangerously bright eyes on her. "There are very certain traits this girl has to have."

"Such as?"

A wicked grin shone. "A quick wit, passion, and a temper and warrior's spirit to match Raph's. As you can imagine, there aren't too many girls like that around among the sedentaries."

"Sedentaries?"

"What we call anyone who isn't a gypsy. No sedentary would be a match for him. I'll have to look among the gypsies."

***********************************

Meanwhile, Leonardo sat silently and composed on the edge of the mat of the training room as Angela and Donny circled each other like wary wild animals.

There was flash and immediately the staff and sabre were viciously trading blows.

Duck, stab, lunge on Angela's end.

Swing, jab, parry on Donny's end.

His brother attempted to whip the girl's legs out from under her, but she hopped over the stick and snapped her blade right beneath her opponent's chin.

"Winner: Angela!" Splinter's voice called out loudly.

"Donny," the human girl laughed lightly. "You need to stop being such a gentleman! I appreciate the courtesy, but if you keep fighting like this, you'll never beat me!"

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Wow!"

Leo turned to smile at Gwen's wide eyed look. "Cool, huh?"

"Yes!"

Donny and Angela joined them as Mikey and Raph stepped up to take their turn.

"Would you like to learn this stuff?" Donny offered.

The girl smiled wryly. "I'm not exactly entirely mobile right now. Even if I was, you've seen how clumsy I am; I'd probably kill myself and my instructor."

"On the contrary," Master Splinter said, sparing them a glance. "Martial arts have been known to improve one's balance and grace."

"If you're willing to teach, I guess I'd like to learn."

"Very nice, we will begin once your ankle has healed – Raphael! Stop that!" He turned his full attention back to the fight in which Raph had abandoned his weapons and was now choking Mikey in some strange wrestling move.

Leo shook his head. Mornings were certainly livelier.

**************************************

Angela fought the unladylike urge to run through the crisp snow like a child. Stealing a glance at the castle, she argued with herself.

No one was watching.

And if they were?

It wasn't like they cared if she acted like a proper young lady.

For heaven's sake, Mikey surfed down the main staircases on old mattresses! Raphael cursed worse than four shiploads of sailors. Donny created explosions in his workshop large enough to blast open doors and crack windows!

After a moment, she settled for forming a snowball and hurling it at a statue. It made a satisfying thwack.

With a vague smile, she turned and walked back to the castle with dainty little ladylike steps.

She was just closing the doors behind her when:

"You should have played out there."

"Huh? Excuse me?" she said.

It was Leonardo. He nodded toward the front doors. "I used to play out there in the snow."

"You?"

"Yeah." The turtle smiled nostalgically. "Every time it snowed, I'd get up at the crack of dawn and make the first marks in the snow."

"Why did you stop?"

He spread his green arms. "Turtles don't handle the cold very well."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah…"

Angela smiled at him. "Maybe one day you'll be able to go out and I'll race you through the snow."

His eye ridges rose skeptically. "I didn't know proper young ladies were allowed to run."

"They aren't. But I won't tell if you won't."

Leo laughed out loud at that.

*************************************

It had been three months since she had come to the castle and the weather was already beginning to soften, as March progressed.

"Okay," Donny said, cradling her slender foot his hands. "This is going to be a little uncomfortable. I'm going to cut through the bandages, but since your foot has swelled a little, the knife is going to come a little close to your skin."

Gwen fidgeted nervously. "Just don't cut my foot off, okay?"

He grinned weakly at her. "Okay, I'll try."

Very carefully, he slid the blade of the knife between the bandages and skin.

"Please don't cut me," she said again.

He looked at her. "I won't."

There was a slice and the bandage fell away from her pale foot.

She sighed in relief at the absence of blood and looked gratefully up at the turtle. He looked back at her.

Hazel on pale brown.

Gwen felt as though her heart was attempting to beat out the rhythm to a gypsy dance.

She flushed and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you."

"No problem," he said.

There was a loud toll from the unseen grandfather clock.

"Donny?"

"Yeah?"

She began pulling on a stocking. "Where is that clock that I always hear? I've looked for it for months but I can never seem to find it."

Her companion stiffened. "It's in the main hall."

"The one I can't go into?"

"Yeah."

"Oh… well, is it really big? It must be to make such a loud sound."

"Oh yes, it's at least eight or nine feet tall," he said carefully, gathering his supplies into his bag.

"Wow."

"So what are you looking for today?" she asked, pulling on a boot.

"Well, I found that there is a high correlation between poppy seeds and sudden death. I want to see what elements make up the seeds themselves."

"I told you that too many of those were dangerous!"

*****************************************

Donatello leaned in close to his newest invention, testing the screws and welding to make sure everything was secure.

Soft brown hair brushed his cheek as Gwen leaned in close as well. "I think that this one is a little loose."

A quick inspection showed she was right and he carefully tightened up the offending screw.

Neither of them showed any concern for the late hour as they eyed the contraption.

"Can I look in it first?"

He blinked at his friend. "Why?"

She smiled shyly and pointed at the cloak set on the mantelpiece. "Because it's my birthday in another fifteen minutes. Please, Donny?"

"March 4 is your birthday? Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't very important," she said with a shrug. "Please?"

He melted beneath her puppy eyes – the longer he worked with her, the more they seemed to affect him. "Okay, you can look in it first as a birthday present. Now come on, let's go to the west tower to test this baby out!"

Gwen clapped her hands together once in excitement as she pulled on her favorite plum-colored cloak. "So what do you call this one, Donny?"

"Well, seeing as I got the idea from some papers and schematics that another man made, I decided just to stay with what he calls it."

"Telescope? I don't know, Donny, sounds a little strange."

******************************************

Mikey grinned at Gwen's shocked face as she entered the enormous dining room. Every inch of the massive table was covered in her favorite foods: smoked salmon, tomato and basil soup, bread rolls stuffed with tomatoes and beef, cod in tarragon sauce, sautéed lamb, broccoli with toasted almonds, scalloped potatoes for the main course. Hot cross bun pudding, raspberry cranachan, Eve's pudding, apple crumble, and scotch trifle for dessert. Then, when it felt as though he would be unable to eat anymore, a splendid birthday cake appeared in midair, several feet about their heads, and floated down to settle magnificently at the head of the table where the honored birthday girl sat.

It was a carrot cake – her favorite – and iced with sweet, fluffy white frosting.

They were up to almost midnight eating and talking, even Raphael coming out of his usual aloofness long enough to clap her on the shoulder and wish her a happy birthday. The words had been slightly slurred after six goblets of whiskey, but she seemed to appreciate them all the same.

The youngest turtle watched with interest as the young woman cornered Donny, who had been avoiding her for most of the night despite the fact that all of this had been his idea, and had gone into a mostly silent happy dance when she motioned to the food, smiled at him, and _kissed_ his brother on the cheek.

For a moment, Mikey had hoped that that would be enough to break Donny's spell, but no, Donny had merely stood there shell-shocked as Gwen, red-faced, ran off to her room.

This was awesome! More than awesome! This was…was… damn, he didn't even have a word for it!

Almost as good, Angela and Leo had talked quietly alone for most of the dinner, smiling most of the time – and not in that vague, polite way they usually did but a soft, genuine way that he had never seen his brother use.

Even though he was delighted that his brothers were now getting a better chance at breaking their spells, he couldn't help but wish that a girl would come along who would get along with him as well as Angela and Gwen got along with Leo and Donny.

********************************************

Raph sat silently on the front steps of the castle, feeling the sun on his skin for the first time in months. It was now the first day of April and, according to Mikey, the first day of spring.

He watched as Donny and the girl Gwen bent over a sheaf of notes together on a bench. Okay, so he had to admit it. Gwen was alright. Okay fine, she was great. Perfect for his younger brother. She was smart, sweet, and very gentle. The big turtle knew that he himself rather liked the girl; she was just a friendly person, easy to like, though definitely shy at first.

His eyes travelled away from the two scholars over to where Leo was teaching the noblewoman to meditate. Angela was not as high on his 'like' list. She was far too contained and cool for him, she saw everything in a very moralistic, matter of fact way that reminded him entirely too much of his brother. No wonder the two got along so well. She agreed with him on most points, and when she didn't, she rarely got extremely angry, preferring to keep her voice soft and polite. To put it bluntly, the girl had a stick up her ass and needed it removed as quickly as possible.

With that thought, he leaned back and locked his arms behind his head to catch a nap. He dreamt of wolves, horses, and long curved knives.

************************************

Master Splinter watched all of this and smiled.

It seemed the mothers knew what they were talking about after all.

**Come on. Press that little button. The faster you review, the faster I update!**


	16. Backflipping

**Two reviews in one night!!! Thanks to raphfreak and awesome_girl_from_dwasomeville!**

**Here we go!**

Chapter 15

Backflipping

_The storyteller paused for a long moment to take a drink of water._

_Even as she sipped, the children stared at her impatiently. When she was done, the little ones were bouncing up and down, waiting for her to continue._

"_Well…"_

In the world of Master Splinter's dreams, Rachel Sweet was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "SHE'S HERE!!!"

******************************************

Mikey peeked out from under his blankets to see a long golden slice of sunlight falling across his cluttered floor. He groaned and jammed his pillow back over his head.

Yesterday had been a long day, starting with an agonizingly long training session in which Master Splinter cut all of the lights and blindfolded them all and told them their goal was not to lose. That had been very painful and he was sure that Angela had blundered into him at least three times, Raph twice, Donny three, and the wall at least sixteen. Then had come Gwen's self-defense lessons. Master Splinter had been teaching the timid young woman to take on attackers from behind, which meant that he spent an hour coming up behind her, putting his hand on her and getting flipped with increasing strength and ferocity over her shoulder. His back was still sore; for someone so small, Gwen packed a hell of a punch. Then he had tried to interest someone in a game of cards, only to be met with flat 'no's from Leo and Angela who were meditating together outside for rest of the morning, less focused 'no's from Donny and Gwen who were bent over a strange bubbling concoction that exploded in their faces when he had raised his voice to get their attention – he had been ousted quite quickly. And pleading with Raph had earned a session of dodging of expensive vases sent air-mail courtesy of his older, temperamental brother. It had all ended up with his favorite comics getting scorched when he accidently knocked over the table they had been piled on.

All in all, not a good day.

And… what was that noise?

****************************************

Zoey Freeman laughed and cartwheeled beside old Mistress Serenity, the fortune teller, as their troupe of traveling entertainers marched through the dark woods.

"C'mon Mis-Reni!" she giggled brightly. "This forest isn't so bad!"

The shriveled woman buried her bony hands into her spangled robes. "This place is baaaaaaaaad! We muuuuuust leeeeeeeaaaaaaaave! Great evil lives in this forest!"

The young girl wrapped an arm around the tiny old shoulders and pressed her smooth pink cheek against the yellowish, wrinkled one. "Don't worry about that, I'll protect you, I promise."

The ancient woman placed her long clammy hands on either side of her face. "Child, you should never have joined us. You are far too sweet and pretty for this life."

Her teenage companion beamed. "Don't be silly! I love being in the troupe!"

She broke away from the elderly woman and ran ahead to join the acrobat team.

Zoey had joined the troupe ten years ago after her mother had been killed in a mugging. Back then she had only been a skinny midget with ridiculous carrot braids and too-big green eyes. Now she was still extremely small, barely five foot one, but now there was graceful, acrobat muscle accentuating her slender form, her hair had darkened to rich auburn, and her big eyes now looked like bright emeralds in her heart-shaped face. Her tiny form had served her very well in her part as an acrobat and she was one of the stars of the show.

At the moment however, the pickings had been rather slim during the winter and they were still looking for a good opportunity to get food enough to fill their bellies. Even as she skipped along, her stomach growled plaintively.

The acrobat rubbed her abdomen. "I know, I know, I'm hungry too."

"Zoey!!" yelled the leader of the troupe, the magician Winchell. "Be a good lass and see if there's an end to the blasted forest any time soon."

"Okay!"

It took only a moment to find a suitable tree and then she was off, clambering up through the branches like a squirrel. Higher and higher she went, the branches rough and strong beneath her fingers. Despite her growing hunger, she quickly reached the highest branches and looked around.

She clung to the topmost branch as though she was a sailor hanging onto the mast of a ship. There was nothing but a sea of treetops as far as the eye could see in one direction, so she turned and stared the other way.

There was nothing but green leaves that way… wait.

What was that?

Was this some trick of the moonlight? Like fog dissipating before the light of the sun, the trees were vanishing. In their place was a magnificent stone castle rearing above the surrounding forest, as though it was a king before lesser subject.

Zoey closed her eyes tightly and shook her head soundly. After a very deep, calming breath, she slowly opened her eyes again; that castle was an illusion.

Nope, it wasn't.

It was still there.

She closed and opened her eyes again.

And again.

The girl just gawped at the building.

Was this how going crazy started?

Your hunger started making you see things that weren't there?

But no, the castle was definitely there – there was no mistaking that.

It must have been there all along, she decided at last. Yes, a trick of the light must have made her think there was nothing in that direction.

She must be hungrier than she thought.

"Well? How's it looking from up there, girl?" Winchell shouted up impatiently.

"There's some kind of building due west!" she called down. "Looks like a castle."

"What about an end to this forest?"

"No sign of it in any direction!"

"Come on down!"

Once her feet had touched the ground, the magician began handing out orders. "Alrighty then, my lads and lassies! We're heading over to that castle Zoey saw! See if the lord of the castle needs any entertainment at his court. Which way was it, girl?"

Zoey pointed the way and they quickly set out.

************************************

It took them until sunrise to reach the stone wall that surrounded the great palace, by which time Zoey was starving – the bread she had shared with Mistress Serenity not nearly enough to fill her young stomach – and exhausted.

Winchell marched to the gates and tried to wrench open. After ten minutes of pulling and groaning, the man fell away cursing from the immobile barrier.

The young acrobat dreamt of great banquets replacing the dry chunks of bread and watery soup and big soft beds to replace the hard mats that provided her with a hairsbreadth inch away from the ground.

Mmmmmm… what delicious dreams.

She stared through the tall, forbidding iron gates and reached out with a wistful hand.

What must it be like to live in a palace like that? To sleep as late as you wanted, to have enough to eat, not having to worry about performing just right…

She sighed longingly. Even a nice hot bath would be a dream come true.

She let her hand drop.

And the gates swung open before her.

Mistress Serenity screamed outright and fell to the ground in spasms. "Evil lives here! LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE! RUUUUUUUUUUUN! THE DARKNESS LIES DEEP!"

It took both Zoey and the animal tamer Abel to drag the panicking old woman through the gates.

"Quick!" Winchell hissed. "Start singing! You two, put the old woman in the wagon and keep her quiet. Gag her if you have to!"

Wincing, the two firmly guided the old woman into the main wagon of the troupe and tried to calm her.

Outside, the others were singing a traditional travelling entertainers' ditty:

_See us here and now today_

_We sing and dance along our way_

_Come out and see what we can do_

_We'll dance and caper all for you_

Mistress Serenity refused to be calmed, lashing out with her bony little feet and horny fists.

"There's no choice, Zoey," Abel said heavily, drawing a length of rope from one of his pockets.

And so they bound and gagged the old woman, Zoey biting her lip unhappily. The elderly gypsy woman was usually very intelligent and calm, rarely allowing her natural extrasensory senses to overwhelm her. It was terrible to see her like this, eyes bloodshot and mouth foaming slightly.

"Go on, child," the older man said kindly. "You don't have to see her like this. I know how close you two are. Go outside with the others."

"But –"

"Go. I'll look after her."

"Alright."

********************************

Mikey ran through the castle, searching for a window that would show him the front of the castle. He quickly encountered Angela who was walking as quickly as her ladylike steps would allow her.

"Hurry up, Angela!" he yelled, overtaking her easily. "No one cares if you run here!"

The blonde merely eyed him coolly. "A lady must keep her poise at all times."

He laughed and left her behind.

Then he came upon Gwen and Donny, both already liberally covered in axel grease, running toward the front doors. This young woman had her soiled skirts fisted up around her knees as she sprinted alongside her friend.

The young turtle grinned to himself; Donny and Gwen had been getting closer and closer every day. There was no doubt in his mind that Donny's curse would be broken long before any of theirs.

"What's going on?" he called to them.

"Don't know!" his brother answered.

"That's what we're going to find out!" Gwen finished.

The three were quickly joined by Raph, and then Leo, and finally Angela who seemed to have given up walking properly.

"What happened to your poise?"

"I am still maintaining it," she said with impressive composure even as she held up her skirts and ran.

At long last, they came upon the front windows of the castle. Master Splinter was already waiting for them there.

"We must stay quiet," he instructed, his paws neatly holding his staff. "I do not think it wise that they find out that we are here."

"Who?"

"Come and see. It appears to be a travelling group of entertainers."

They looked.

Four wagons were hitched up to pairs of sturdy looking horses, their bright paint peeling forlornly. There were about thirty men and women, ranging in age from children no older than nine to a wrinkled old man who looked to be about ninety. Together they were singing an old ditty, apparently asking for an opportunity to perform.

"So do we just wait for them to go away?" Angela asked perturbed.

"It's all we can do," Leo said quietly. "Eventually they all just leave."

"Not my father."

The blue-banded turtle shifted uncomfortably. "No, sometimes there are exceptions."

"Why don't me and Angela just go outside and tell them the… the masters of the castle don't want any entertainment?"

"No, Gwen," Master Splinter said. "This forest is enchanted and as such only those who it thinks are worthy may find this castle. If these people were able to find and enter the grounds, there must be a reason. We cannot interfere."

Mikey stared at the performers; some of them looked down right starved. "Hey, Master? Do you think we could send some food out to them? They don't look like they've eaten in a while."

The elderly rat nodded. "I will inform the servants. Meanwhile, all of you are to stay out of sight, is that understood? Gwen, Angela, you are to stay with one of the boys at all times."

Both girls huffed indignantly at this affront to their trustworthiness.

The guys laughed and immediately began to tease.

*************************************

Zoey was unaware of any of this as she stretched out her muscles, refusing to acknowledge her biting hunger. With a whoosh, she flew into her routine, front flipping several times before halting on her hands, still upside down, and reversing her momentum so that she back flipped now instead. Over and over she went, finally pushing off with extra power and performed a somersault with a twist.

She landed with a flourish, throwing her hands into the air and posing like the performer she was.

Had she just heard… cheering?

She looked around.

Nope, no one.

The girl turned her attention to the castle and… there was someone looking back at her!

It was a woman… and then she was gone.

For a long moment, Zoey could only stare at the window where the woman had been. The curtain wasn't swinging – wouldn't it still be swinging if there had been a woman there?

Could it be that it had been, her heart gave a delicious little leap in her chest, could it have been a ghost?

Was that what Mistress Serenity had meant? That this place was haunted?

The old gypsy woman could sense things like that, she got the shivers when spirits were around and sometimes she would stand very still and whisper words in voices not her own. Possession, she called it, and said it was extremely dangerous.

Zoey had never heard a ghost talking or felt anything frightening. But she had seen things before. Things that no one seemed to be able to see.

Once it was an old, old man in his night cap and pajamas peering over a businessman's shoulder, going over his ledgers. Another time it was a tiny child toddling along in the wake of a woman dressed all in black.

Every time she tried to point one of these strangers out, her companions would stare at the spot she indicated and then turn cautious eyes on her and tell her in soft voices that there was no there.

Mistress Serenity said that seeing spirits was a rare and special gift among the sedents. Among the gypsies, such abilities were common.

The problem was, Zoey could never tell if the person she was looking at was alive or not unless she tried to speak with them, for ghosts couldn't speak – or if they could, she couldn't hear them.

*****************************************

"I cannot _believe_ you let her see you!" the Lady scolded Rachel.

"She has to see me!" the waitress protested. "Then she'll want to enter the castle to find me!"

"But we cannot interfere!"

Vittoria scoffed. "Mary whispered to the girl and her son in the winter."

"What?!"

Mary shrank a bit in shame. "Well, how else was I supposed to get her to go so far into the forest, and get him to leave the grounds? They're both very practical and neither of them would have done it without a little…encouragement."

"And you can bet your afterlife that I'll be messing with Raph and his girl as much as I can," the gypsy woman said.

Leonardo's mother groaned and sank her hands into her golden hair.

************************************************

No one in the troupe was quite sure where the food showed up or when it appeared, but by high noon there it was. A whole pile of bread and cheese, dried meats, preserved fruits and vegetables, canteens of rich whiskey, bottles of juice, an enormous amount of colored liquid that tasted like water with the slightest sweetness of fruits, and even a few containers of milk.

Whispers broke out among the people.

"Do you suppose they're paying us in advance?"

"What if they don't like our performance? Will they want this stuff back?"

"Maybe it's a test."

"Should we take it?"

"Hey! Look here, I think it's a message!"

One of the jugglers, Gamboro, had found a folded up piece of parchment paper. Everyone clamored about to see it.

"Who knows letters?" Winchell yelled.

Zoey stepped forward. "I can read some."

Immediately, she was given the paper and began to read, the fancy lettering confusing her:

"Dear E-est-esteemed per-performers,

"We thank you for your offer of en-enter-tain-ment, but hu-humbly must de-cli-ne. As a gift of fr-iend-ship, please ac-cept this gift of food.

"Also, we must ask that you do not at-attempt to enter our home, however you are wel-come to stay on our lands as long as you need.

"Yours in fr-friendship, M.S."

Silence greeted this.

"Well!" Winchell said at last. "That's mighty kind of them but we don't take nothing from charity! We'll have a little informal performance tonight as payment and leave in the morning. Don't want to wear out our welcome, do we?"

And so it was decided; the food was split among them and they began preparing for the unofficial performance.

For her own part, Zoey spent an hour trying to get Mistress Serenity to eat something.

The old woman had stopped struggling and screaming and now had the glazed look in her eye that she often got during her visions.

Even as the young acrobat tried to force some dried meat down the gypsy's throat, Serenity was muttering under her breath.

"Why her?"

"Why who, Mis-Reni?"

"She's so young."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Are you sure?"

Zoey gave up trying to make any sense of the fortuneteller, casting several suspicious glances around the caravan, looking for spirits.

Nothing.

Hmmmm.

At sundown, they laid out a bonfire and began the music.

Then, the performance began.

*********************************

Gwen sat at her window with Angela and the boys, staring out at the show. She had never seen such things.

Four men stood in a square throwing balls, then sticks, then burning torches and then knives. One man held a snake as thick as her arm around his neck and made it snatch morsels of meat from his fingers. A team of women bent themselves into fantastic shapes as men with huge muscles lifted them over their heads. Children performed simple acrobatic routines. Clowns ran about, smacking each other with bats and pushing and shoving each other comically.

Finally, a tall man in a billowing cloak embroidered with silver stars stepped forward. He was obviously shouting something, but she couldn't hear it.

"What's he saying?" Mikey asked.

"Dunno."

All at once, the man ripped off his cloak and flung it into the fire.

"What's he doing?" Angela gasped.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Suddenly the cloak was thrown into the air as a slender figure leapt up from under it. Executing a graceful somersault, the acrobat landed lightly on the grass, snatched the cloak from the air, cartwheeled over to the magician and handed him his cloak before backflipping away.

"She's good," Leo said quietly.

"Really good," Donny agreed.

Gwen nodded silently. Though she was becoming quite familiar with feats of gymnastic prowess, learning martial arts from Master Splinter, she didn't think she had ever seen athletic ability pushed like this. The tiny girl flew across the grass like a… like… like Mikey!

"I bet I could take her," the aforementioned turtle muttered sourly, staring at his competition.

"Dunno about that, knucklehead," Raph chuckled. "That girl's got springs in her feet."

"She doesn't have a shell to weigh her down!"

"How did she do that with the fire?"

"Magic!"

"Don't be silly, there's no such – look at her go!"

The young woman was back handspringing across the ground, throwing in a split handstand and a pike somersault every couple of flips. And then she leapt up onto the roof of one of the wagons and backflipped. She tucked in her knees and flipped through the air, landing on her hands then swinging one leg around to stand upright. Then another leap that sent her ten feet into the air, a quick somersault, landing in a split.

Her hands came up.

"Wow!" Gwen whispered. "She's incredible!!"

"She's okay. I could take her."

"Give it up, Mikey," Leo said. "You'll probably never see her again."

*****************************************

Zoey pulled herself to her feet, panting slightly. There was nothing she loved more than flipping and somersaulting across the ground – she was a natural.

She peeked over at the castle, hoping to see something. Nope, nothing.

Sighing, the young girl bowed to the front doors of the palace and ran off to check on Mistress Serenity.

The ropes lay limp and empty on the floor, and Mistress Serenity stood behind the wagon, staring at the castle.

"Mis-Reni?" she asked, approaching the old woman cautiously.

"Hello, Zoey."

"Are you okay?"

"I am feeling much better now, thank you."

"What happened?"

"There were voices I couldn't quite make out. They're coming from the castle."

"Really?" the acrobat looked up at the great stone building. "So it's haunted."

"The voices are calling for you."

"What?!" She felt a delicious little shiver down her spine at the thought of spirits knowing who she was. "Why do they want me?"

"They're calling for you."

"But why?"

"They are calling. They want you."

"Why, Mis-Reni?"

"They want you to go to them."

"This sounds like one of those old stories where the innocent virgin is sacrificed to evil spirits."

"They are not evil. They merely want you to go to them. They want you to enter the castle."

"We're not allowed to go into the castle."

"They are calling you."

Zoey sighed and stared at the dark creepy castle. And leapt to her feet.

There were people standing on the steps leading to the massive front doors of the fortress, watching her.

"What are they doing? They know we're not allowed to go in there!"

The fortune-teller turned to look at what had caught her attention. "There is nothing there, child."

She walked away from her friend, staring in shock at the women. "Are you sure? They're standing right there on the steps, can't you see them?"

"No child. I cannot see the spirits; I can only speak to them."

There were four of them, and despite the darkness she could still tell they were all women. She could see them beckoning to her.

One of them was walking towards her, gleaming blonde hair dancing down her back. Stopping about fifty feet away, the ghost made gestures to follow her, smiling reassuringly. Zoey pointed to herself.

The woman smiled brightly and nodded, extending her hand.

"They want me to go with them," she whispered to the gypsy.

"So why aren't you going?"

"They want me to go into the castle."

"And?"

"We are forbidden to go into the castle!"

"When have things like that kept you from doing what you want?"

"Since someone living in a castle gave me the order!"

"You don't want to go into the castle?"

"Of course I do! I'm dying to go inside!"

"Well, then go! What could happen?"

Zoey clenched her fists. "Okay. Just one quick peek inside!"

************************************

The fires around the troupes' camps had been banked for the night and everyone was asleep.

Except for a certain acrobat and a gypsy fortuneteller.

"Here I go!"

"Shush, child!"

"I know, I know…"

Keeping close to the ground, she gathered up her brown skirts and scurried across the sweeping lawns to the huge front doors. They were made of wood and worked over in bronze, but despite their massive size and weight, they opened at her slightest touch.

Zoey bit her lip, trying to see into the patch of darkness that made up the inside of the castle, but could see nothing. If she wanted to see what was inside, she would have to go inside. With a deep breath to steel herself, she ducked inside of the great hall.

And squeaked loudly as the door swung shut behind her with a solid thud and the lights in the castle all lit at once.

It took her a moment to blink aside the vivid violet spots that were now impeding her vision.

"Oh child," came a quiet male voice. "Why did you have to ignore our warning?"

As soon as she heard those words, Zoey knew she was in deep trouble. "Um… I'm really sorry. I'll just leave now, okay?"

"Leave? I think not."

The front door was suddenly as heavy as a mountain as she tried to open it again.

"I'll never do it again, I promise. Please let me leave." She blinked aside the last of the spots and flashed her brightest and most winning smile at the speaker. "Pretty please?"

Her eyes got big. Really big.

The giant rat seemed to wince slightly and its ears flattened. The four enormous turtles behind it also winced and two of them pressed their hands over where their ears should have been.

"_Oh my gosh! You guys are animals!!! That is so cool!"_

*****************************************

At those outrageous words, Mikey couldn't hold back uncontrollable laughter. Here they had been getting ready for the girl to scream like a banshee and here she was circling Master Splinter with a look of utter delight and fascination.

"Well, this is a new one," Donny muttered.

Instantly the girl was inches away from the scholarly turtle's face.

"You all can talk?!"

"Uh… yeah?"

The girl's large green eyes got even bigger and she turned slowly to eye each of them.

"This is _so_ cool."

"I know. We are cool, aren't we?" Mikey puffed out his chest proudly.

"Do you have names, too?"

"Miss, please –" Master Splinter said, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Zoey."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name. It's Zoey."

"Well. Miss Zoey, you disobeyed our one request, which was not to come into the castle."

"Does this mean you're going to lock me in the dungeon?"

Even Raph was grinning by this point at the girl's sheer weirdness.

"And feed me nothing but bread and water?"

Mikey was now hanging off of Donatello's shoulders, dying of laughter.

"No! Ahem – you will have to stay here with us and our other guests."

The girl latched onto this new bit of information. "What do you mean stay here? What other guests?

"You don't eat humans, do you?" She looked absolutely delighted by possible consumption.

"What is going on here?!"

It was Angela in her nightgown and a dressing gown.

Leo jumped in. "Miss Zoey. Please, listen. The penalty for trespassing in our home is staying here with us forever."

The girl's smile froze and crumpled. "I can't leave? Not ever? I have to stay inside this castle for _forever_?"

"Who is this?" Gwen was coming down the main staircase in her pajamas.

"You may go outside as much as you please," Master Splinter assured her.

"You can go anywhere in the castle!" Mikey offered.

"Except the great hall over there," Leo said quickly.

"And you can do anything you'd like!" Donny added.

"But you can't leave the grounds," Raph warned.

"That's enough," Angela ordered sharply, pushing between Leo and Mikey. "Can't you see that you're just confusing her?"

The youngest turtle watched with awe as the noblewoman pushed her sleep tousled hair aside and gave a small curtsey to the bewildered girl. "Good evening, Miss. My name is Angela of Verity. What is your name?"

The young girl looked startled at this, but her terrified expression softened and she smiled shyly. "I'm Zoey Freeman. Nice to meet you."

As the introductions went around, Mikey looked over their new guest. She was very cute, smaller than Gwen by several inches, and so skinny that it looked like Raph could break her like twig. She had a face much like a doll, wavy reddish auburn hair and big green eyes, and a bigger smile. Her dress was plain, dark brown patched skirt, and a too big white blouse that was just barely held in place by an old black girdle.

"I'm Michelangelo," he said brightly when the introductions reached him. "But you can call me Mikey."

"Pleasure. Um… you said I can go outside?"

Master Splinter nodded gently. "Yes, tomorrow when the troupe outside leaves our gates, you may go outside.

"Now," he turned businesslike. "It is very late and I believe that it is time we all went to bed. Michelangelo please take Miss Zoey to a suitable room."

Mikey grinned. "You got it, Sensei! C'mon Zoey!"

"_And now," the woman sitting among the children said. "It is time for all small children to go to bed."_

"_What!" came the scandalized cry._

"_No complaining, it's almost a full hour past all of your bedtimes and we have guests coming tomorrow. Come along."_

**Alright. Now PLEASE tell me what you think. Review!!!**


	17. Zoey

**Shout out to starblade12. Thanks for reviewing! **

**Here is your reward.**

Chapter 16

Zoey

_All of the children were in the sitting room almost an hour earlier than normal. This of course meant there had been a dramatic decrease in complaints about bathtime. _

_Now all of them sat anxiously, awaiting the arrival of the story teller. When she finally arrived, two new children, and two other women accompanied her, joining the audience on the floor._

"_Now, where was I?"_

Zoey ran through the gardens the next day, whooping and laughing as she leapt over benches, sidled through fragile flowerbeds, and waded through decorative ponds and streams.

Last night had been full of new and astonishing surprises. She had gotten her own bedroom. And not just any bedroom – one fit for a princess!

The walls had been painted a cheery golden yellow and the furniture was all made of rich mahogany wood, from her wonderful bed, canopied in yellow and orange and covered in matching blankets and pillows, to her wardrobes, filled with beautiful dresses, a bookcase filled with short stories that made her giggle, empty shelves for her things, and a small vanity with amusing odds and ends. It was perfect. It had a huge window made up tiny individual pieces of glass in strange pieces that the made the sunlight fall irregularly on the bed and best of all she could leave it and enter it whenever she wanted.

At first she had been horrified when they told her she could never leave; she kept picturing being stuck in a room, never being able to leave it and go outside to play and have fun. But the two human girls, the only other humans in the castle, assured that guests here could do as they pleased, so long as they did not try to hurt anyone – including themselves – try to leave or go into the main hall, which they had pointed out to her this morning. And, they added, it was expected that everyone had dinner together in the dining room.

But despite their kind words, she had been nervous going to her room, though being waited by what she was sure were gusts of wind had distracted her a bit.

Today she had been woken by the smell of hot chocolate and chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and been given the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It had a skirt of golden silk and a bodice only a few shades brighter with a bronze girdle.

She had been awed and a little amused. Things like this weren't for a girl like her! She was an acrobat for heavens' sake! She couldn't go prancing about in fancy dresses.

However, the wind servants did not share her thinking and kept trying to force it onto her, but in the end they seemed to understand and showed her a much simpler gown. A burnt orange skirt that fell to her shins, a white comfortably loose blouse that kept slipping down to reveal her left shoulder, a girdle that matched her skirt and brown boots. The servants had insisted upon a golden necklace with a star charm and slender golden bracelet. They then held her captive long enough to put her hair in a braid, tied with a light orange ribbon.

Once dressed, she had cautiously extended her hand to the door, fully prepared to climb out of her third floor window to get outside, and was pleasantly surprised when it swung open smoothly. She had skipped through the long halls, admiring the paintings, tapestries, and statues that decorated the castle's interior. The far-off chiming of a clock had told her it was eleven in the afternoon and she had spent another hour wandering around, searching for a flight of stairs until she ran into the quiet turtle, Leo.

He seemed rather wary about telling her how to get into the gardens, but gave her directions anyway, recommending that she stay away from the rose bushes, "They have a nasty habit of trapping anyone walking by."

And so here she was, her boots abandoned on the front steps of the castle, running wild through the grass. Her feet were tough from constantly running around bare foot and the gravel underfoot was nothing.

The late spring air felt wonderful on her face as she left the castle and hiked up a small hill, turned around and flopped down to lay down in the grass.

She was being held in very nice captivity, she had a nice bed, she didn't have to do chores, she was clean, her clothes fit, and she was comfortably full.

Life here could be very nice.

It had rather surprised her that the troupe had left so easily in the morning; it rather hurt as a matter of fact. But Leo had explained to her that they had left a note explaining things to the troupe and that the troupe had left her a letter in return.

The letter was actually little more than a scrap of paper with a carefully drawn heart with painfully executed signatures and neat Xs around it. She knew what it was; every time one of the performers left to start a new life they gave him or her a paper with a similar design. It symbolized that the one leaving the troupe was going with everyone's blessings and would forever be in their hearts.

The precious bit of paper was folded up and tucked into her girdle for safe keeping.

"Hey there! You okay?"

Zoey sat up and looked around. Mikey was coming towards her, holding her boots.

"Forget something?" he asked, holding them up.

She wrinkled her button nose. "I hate wearing shoes."

He looked down at his big green feet. "Me too."

She burst into giggles and he grinned triumphantly.

Finally, the turtle sat down beside her. "I saw your flips and stuff last night."

"What did you think?" she hugged her knees. "What do you know about acrobatics?"

"More than you."

"Oh really?"

"Yup."

With a mischievous grin, Zoey hopped to her feet and put her hands on hips as she playfully glared at her companion. "Let's put that to the test. Show me what you can do!"

********************************

Mikey landed a triple no handed somersault neatly, hiding the wince as his shell's weight fell heavily on his already aching back and shoulders. While it was true he had grown more or less used to the shell's weight and bulk, it had been a long time since he had really pushed his acrobatic skills to compete with anyone else.

Still, that had been better than Zoey's triple one-handed somersault.

"Not bad," said girl admitted. "Top this!"

She flew across the grass, backflipping expertly, planted her feet for a split second and did two perfect mid-air knee tuck rolls.

They had been one-upping each other all afternoon, skipping lunch in favor of seeing who had the best somersault technique. Not only was he aching, but his mask was lopsided. Zoey's clothes were covered in grass and sweat stains, her hair was a mess and her cheeks were bright pink.

Very cute.

He paused at that thought.

"Well?" she panted, staggering towards him. "How was that?"

"Not bad!" the turtle answered.

Yes, she was cute.

He brightened. Maybe she could break the spell for him just like Angela and Gwen could break the spell for Leo and Donny!

A strange heat crawled up the back of his neck.

Man, he was out of shape if he was hot and out of breath after just a few hours of gymnastics!

"Let's stop for now," he suggested. "It's almost dinner and Master Splinter doesn't like it if you show up all dirty for practice."

"Does this mean I win?"

"For now," he conceded. "But I'll win tomorrow!"

"So…" she looked rather shyly at him. "Friends?"

"'Course! You're the best acrobat I've ever seen! Besides me of course!"

Looking up at him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well let's see if you can beat me at other stuff."

"Like what?"

"Like a race!! Catch me if you can!"

He screeched as she charged off towards the castle, her boots swinging wildly from one hand.

***********************************

"Oh come on, Mikey," Zoey teased forty-five minutes later, sitting down at the dining room table. "You're not still mad are you?"

The turtle pouted darkly at his empty plate across the table.

"Mikey?" she said, reaching out. "Mikeeeeeeeeeey! Looooooooook aaaaaaaaaaaat meeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

She was gratified to see his lips twitch upwards.

"Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaase, Miiiiiiiiiiikeeeeeeeeeeeeey! Fooooooooorgggggiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive meeeeeeeeeeee!"

Widening her eyes, the young woman fixed her friend with her best puppy eyes.

His bright blue eyes slowly rose to meet her green ones and she gave him her saddest, most pathetic look.

He jolted away, looking startled.

"What's the matter, Mikey?" Raph chuckled. "Can't you handle a taste of your own medicine? She's got the kicked puppy look down better than you."

Zoey concentrated on keeping a pleased grin from her face, focusing on looking small and heartbreaking. To her delight, a tear trickled its way down her cheek.

"Aah!" Mikey squawked, nearly leaping over the table. "Don't cry, Zoe! Don't cry! I'm sorry!"

She beamed at him. "Thank you, Mikey."

Raph fell into his chair, howling with laughter.

The auburn haired girl leaned back in her chair and looked around the dining room. It was so huge that only half of the room was lit, the rest of table vanishing off into a pool of darkness. The table was an enormous specimen and was covered with a dainty white table cloth and, as far the eye could see, with covered dishes and pitchers.

Zoey plucked uncomfortably at the elegant orange dress that the servants had insisted putting on her after her bath.

Gwen entered the dining room, soft brown hair still slightly damp, with Donny, arguing about the importance of blood.

"I'm telling you, bleeding someone isn't healthy!"

"I know! I don't know how that idiot thought that removing bad blood could be of any use!"

"So," Raph said blandly. "To figure out if loosing blood is good or bad, you two decided to blow up the workshop. Again."

Both girl and turtle flushed.

"We needed to make sure that the new type of gunpowder we created was potent enough," Donny growled.

"By explodin' the damn stuff in the house? Real smart for a coupla geniuses."

Gwen's blush darkened alarmingly.

"Shut up, Raph." The purple-banded turtle courteously pulled a chair out for his friend and she gratefully sank into it.

"Thank you Donny."

Zoey watched all of this with interest. It seemed as though there was something very interesting was going on between those two.

A tall graceful girl entered the room. "Good evening everyone."

"Hey, Angela."

"Hi, Angie!"

There was a stricken silence as everyone turned to stare at the newest occupant of the castle.

"Angie?" the blonde whispered in shock.

"Well," Zoey said, spreading out her hands. "Your name is Angela, isn't' it? Well, the nickname for Angela is Angie. Just like my nickname could be Z or Zoe.

"Sorry, Gwen, your name doesn't really have a nickname unless you're open to Gwennie."

"I don't think so."

"I don't know," Donny said slowly. "It does kind of grow on you, doesn't it, Gwennie?"

"Don't you dare! Don't you even think about it, Donatello Hamato!"

"Or what? I already have a nickname."

"Don't!" she wailed. "I don't like Gwennie!"

By now all of them were laughing, even Raph was chuckling.

"Please don't tease me, Donny," the persecuted begged, her hazel eyes pleading.

Donny relented. "Okay, okay, I won't call you Gwennie, Gwennie."

"_Donatello!"_

"What's going on here?" Leo asked, entering with Master Splinter.

"Nothing," Mikey said, wiping a hand across his watering eyes.

"Take a seat everyone so that we can eat."

Master Splinter sat at the head of the table, with Leo on his right hand and Raph on his left, Angela sat beside Leo and Mikey beside her, Zoey sat beside Raph and Donny and Gwen sat on her other side.

They bent their heads as Master Splinter said grace and then the covers flew from the covered plates.

Zoey's mouth watered up immediately.

Chickens and turkeys were artfully arranged on huge platters, vegetables of all kinds sat in bowls, potatoes – mashed, baked, boiled, and fried – soft, fresh new bread, pitchers of juice, urns of water, and bowl of crushed ice with bottle of wine carefully jammed inside.

Zoey sat back and stared at it all for a moment as the others immediately began taking bowls and passing them around to each other.

"Hey Zoe, you want some chicken?" Mikey asked, offering a plate.

Oh yes, she was definitely going to love it here.

***********************************

And so May passed and summer began to creep towards the castle.

Zoey settled in and made friends. Angela got used to being called Angie and Gwen still refused to answer to Gwennie.

Unbeknownst to any of them except Master Splinter, strange dreams were plaguing the gypsy caravans traversing the nearby countrysides.

**Thoughts? Review and you get an update!**


	18. Daughter of Gypsies

**Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews! And a shout out to awesome_girl, YOU ARE TRULY AWESOME!!**

**Here's Raph's girl.**

Chapter 17

Daughter of Gypsies

"_She sounds real funny!" giggled one of their guests._

"_Who sounds funny?" asked a woman, entering the room._

"_Come listen to the story! It's real good!"_

Deep in the Dark Forest, the Baldino gypsy caravan lay sleeping soundly.

At midnight, however, every single girl in the caravan winced and began dreaming.

*********************************

Each girl found herself alone in a forest clearing, wearing the leather armor traditional to all gypsy warriors and weapons strapped to their belts.

Each of them heard a rustling in the bushes.

Some yanked out weapons, others could do nothing but wheel around to see what was coming towards them.

It was a woman dressed all in black with a cloth drawn across her face like a woman from the Eastern deserts. From the dark veils, two eyes the color of molten gold gleamed at the lone girl.

The woman stepped from the bushes and confronted the other.

For a long moment, the veiled lady looked over the girl and then flicked a finger, pointing straight at the newcomer.

And a wolf the size of a small pony burst from the undergrowth, snarling like a demon.

It charged at the girl…

**************************************

Almost a score of girls woke screaming, some grabbing for the dream weapons at their waists, others trying to shield their faces, and the rest lying stock still in bed, too terrified by the dream to move.

Only one young woman stayed asleep.

**************************************

She stood before the great wolf, her twin kopis blades poised and ready, eyes hard.

The beast abruptly stopped six feet away, standing beside the mysterious woman. It was actually quite a handsome creature with jet black fur and no traces of white at all on its body, and amber eyes, the exact same as the woman's.

The girl did not lower her weapons or relax her grip. "Who are you?"

The woman did not answer, instead lowering her golden gaze to the wolf. The covered lips seemed to say something and when the woman turned and walked away into the forest, the wolf did not attempt to follow.

Girl and wolf looked at each other.

The great canine carefully approached her, ears and tail high.

Her blades flicked out warningly and the wolf immediately stopped.

"Don't even think about it," she growled.

The wolf took a step closer, stretched out its powerful neck, and sniffed her blades. He looked up at her and cocked his ears quizzically.

Very, very slowly, she slipped one of her weapons into its sheath and lowered the other to her side, keeping it in a firm grip. Then, even slower, she stretched a hand out to the creature.

Closer…

Closer…

She could feel the thick, surprisingly soft fur beneath her fingers…

_Bang_

The wolf snapped his head to the source of the strange sound. Before she could wrench her second kopis out, the enormous beast stood between her and whatever had caused the noise like a dog protecting his mistress.

She shook her hair out of her face in annoyance and moved to stand beside her strange companion. If they were going to fight this thing, she was not going to hide behind anything like a little girl.

The sharp amber eyes looked at her with matching annoyance. Could a wolf look annoyed?

It was coming closer. It was rustling the leaves…

The wolf was crouched on the ground, trembling with eagerness.

She took position as the thing broke the cover of leaves and she and the wolf leapt forward…

"_Julietta!"_

********************************

Julietta Baldino sat up in her bed, the knife she always kept under her pillow brushing the throat of Nazario, the leader of her caravan.

She blinked in confusion. "Nazario?"

"Yes, girl, it's me." His brown eyes were completely focused on the blade at his throat. "Now kindly get this thing away from me."

"Oh, sorry."

The caravan leader gingerly rubbed his scratched throat. "Now I can understand why you're still a virgin."

Julietta rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. What are you doing in here – I'd prefer to stay a virgin a little longer, you know."

The man looked deadly serious. "Were you having a dream before you awoke?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"What was it about?"

"Why?"

"Why didn't you wake when the wolf sprang at you?"

"What?"

"Surely the screams must have –"

"That will do!"

The young gypsy smirked as her tiny, wrinkled grandmother Evelina marched into the wagon and faced down the tall six foot plus Nazario from her own height of four foot ten.

"Get out, young Nazario."

"Evelina, I must –"

"You must get out. Now. Before I remind you why you never disobeyed me when you were a child."

It was hilarious to see this huge man cower as this little old woman raised a slightly trembling hand as though to slap him, despite the fact that her hand came no higher than his stomach. But then, Julietta mused, her grandmother was in a perfect position to hurt something much more important than a cheek.

Nazario, red in the face, left quickly.

"Well now, little demon," Evelina said. "I think you'd better tell me exactly what happened in this dream of yours."

Julietta told.

Her grandmother stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Well that's very interesting. But I've never been very attuned to the spirits and their messages."

"Spirits?"

The old woman flapped her hands in the air impatiently. "And how else would you explain seventeen girls all having the same dream and only one of them not waking up screaming loud enough to wake the dead? No doubt about it, love. The spirits were testin' you. I wish Sabino were here, he was always closer to the other world than I was."

There was a painful silence as the two women remembered Sabino Baldino, Evelina's husband and Julietta's grandfather, who had died several months ago.

"Well," the younger of the two said briskly. "If they were tryin' to test me, did I pass?"

"I suspect that we'll find out soon enough," Evelina said heavily.

"Now," she clapped her aged hands. "We've got a long day ahead of us and sunrise isn't too far off. Get some sleep, love."

***********************************

Some miles away, Vittoria grinned triumphantly at her compatriots. "I've found her. She'll give Raph one hell of a run for his money."

***********************************

The next morning came far too early but Julietta rolled out of her truckle bed and got dressed. One quick swig of whiskey burnt her throat enough to successfully rouse her from her early morning daze and a quick mouthful of bread served her as breakfast. Then it was outside to feed the horses.

Julietta's family specialized in training horses and this latest group was the last Sabino had bought. As her grandmother was far too small and old, not to mention more than a little wary of horses, the job had fallen to Julietta as the only surviving descendant.

At the moment, there were nine beautiful yearlings tied up along with the two cart horses and her own horse – another yearling that her grandfather had given her to train when he bought the rest. The two, huge bays – Arman and Aspen munched at bits of grass – while between them her filly, Dancer, threw her head up and kept whinnying to the other colts, clearly not happy at having been parked between the two older horses. The other younger horses stamped and nickered restlessly.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," she grumbled, offering a wooden bucket filled with grain and two others filled with water.

It took several trips to satisfy all of the horses, and after that came grooming.

Aspen and Arman stood quietly for it, flicking their tails idly as she gave them quick rub downs and set them loose to wander through the nearby trees and browse on leaves. The others weren't so deferential; Dancer had developed an annoying habit of snapping her mane or tail, depending on which the girl happened to be trying to untangle at that point, the big black colt who she had taken to calling Demonio in the privacy of her thoughts was inclined to rear up and neigh angrily when he felt that she was pulling harder than was necessary, and lively roan female that refused to stay still.

She was just finishing picking out the calm grey colt's last foot when Simonetta, another gypsy maiden.

"Hello, Julietta," Simonetta simpered. "How are you?"

"Busy."

The older girl looked affronted. "Too busy to talk to an old friend?"

"Of course not. But I am too busy for you. Get lost."

Simonetta was the oldest single girl in the caravan, and considered one of the most beautiful, which accounted for her losing her virginity two years ago. She was slender, with long, straight black hair, and an impressive amount of cleavage. She was also incapable of doing anything more strenuous than sewing a dancing dress.

"I was wondering… are you going to dance at the ceremony tonight?"

"Don't know."

Julietta began tying the younger horses up to the wagon she and her grandmother lived in.

"I don't know why you don't at least try to get married, Julietta," Simonetta said innocently. "Goodness knows, your… home… could do with a bit of a man's touch…"

The girl's eyes lingered distastefully on the rough patches that covered holes in the carriage's walls, the rickety wheels, and the peeling paint. The only things that didn't look forlorn were the horses that were restlessly pulling at the rope that now bound them to the wagon.

"And I daresay that you could also use…"

"I don't need a man."

Simonetta sneered. "Of course not. You've just thrown away every man who's come to call. Or perhaps they took one look at you-"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't have time for this. If you have something to say then say it."

"Stay away from the dance tonight! You don't belong there."

"I'll go if I want."

"Why bother? It's not like you can dance!"

"Are you getting any closer to a point?"

"Tonight is my night!"

Julietta's temper snapped. "I don't give a damn! If I want to go, I'll go. If I want to dance, then I will. And if you or anyone tries to stop me I will _make_ them sorry. Now get the hell out of my face!"

*********************************

She went to the ceremony. How could she not have after that?

Her dress fit her well, though it wasn't nearly as fancy or revealing as the other dresses she saw. It had a plain sleeveless black top and a separate flaring skirt the color of red wine. One very old gold chain went around her waist and that was extent of her jewelry but for the bronze hoops she wore as earrings.

She ignored the jeers of the others, though she wanted nothing more than to drag them down and the beat the crap out of them after the first hour. Finally, it was her turn to dance.

She took her place and raised her arms to the moon.

And paused.

What the hell was everyone staring at?

She had cleaned up tonight and looked fairly presentable. She was tall, tanned dark, had dark curly hair and dark eyes. Nothing really spectacular. Sure her grandmother said she was beautiful and her grandfather had sworn that she would be the most beautiful of the all the other girls, but family didn't count.

Probably just the shock of seeing her getting ready to dance.

The music started.

Julietta threw her mind around for a moment – she always danced better when she concentrated on a single subject – and her thoughts landed on her strange wolf dream.

She tilted her head back and thought only of the music and the way the wolf had moved.

And then she moved.

For a short eternity, there was nothing but her and the music as she swayed her hips, spread her arms out and took light little steps to the side, flaring her skirt. She tossed her long loose dark hair as she spun on the ball of her foot. She leapt and danced before the fire and in that moment, she wished that life could be as simple as dancing.

********************************

To those watching the strange young woman dance, they saw the strength in her slender little body, they saw her wildness. They saw her luxuriously dark brown hair was black in the shadows and an almost golden brown in the firelight, her black-brown eyes, her tanned body, her exotic delicate features that managed dainty and strong at the same time.

The little wolf child was beautiful.

And to one of the young men, watching the horse trainer's granddaughter dance, he saw his future wife.

All that was necessary was to tame her.

********************************

The next morning came far too quickly and Julietta could barely stagger alongside the carthorses.

Ever since her dance the previous night, no one but her grandmother and Nazario had spoken to her, the former to tell her she had been absolutely incredible and the latter to say that she had blossomed into a woman that men would fight to have.

Yeah. Okay.

Whatever.

She'd give up all of the alleged men for a good night's sleep.

"Julietta."

She glanced up from her tired bare feet to see Raul, Nazario's son, approaching her.

"What?"

"Don't look so glum. You're going to be my wife. My father has given his permission. We'll get married in autumn."

Julietta looked him in the eye. "Normally, I'd say no, but when you put it that way I'd have say…"

She beckoned him coyly forward.

Looking delighted, he obediently leaned closer and stuck his ear to her mouth.

"_NO WAY IN HELL!"_

Aspen and Arman jolted in terror at the sudden noise. The yearlings squealed in alarm.

Raul fell away from her, grabbing at his ringing ear. "What did you say?"

She took a step closer, her exhaustion replaced with fury. "What, you didn't hear me? Should I yell louder?"

"How dare you say no?! My father said I could have you!"

"Well I'm saying no."

He climbed to his feet, looking livid. "You're just a useless woman! You have no say in this manner!"

Julietta was now fighting the urge to throttle this arrogant bastard. "Seeing as it is my body you want to screw with, I'd say it is!"

She took a step closer to him. "And if you think even for one second that I am going to let a son of a bitch like you to get close to my body than you can just think again."

His hand whipped out to slap her.

Instantly, her vision went red. She grabbed his wrist, twisted, turned on her heel, and flipped him over her shoulder. Before he could process what had happened, she drew her knife and pressed it against his throat, just as she had done to his father two nights ago.

"I am no one's whore, least of all yours. If you try anything like this again, I'll kill you. Now get the hell away from my house."

**********************************

That night, she dreamed that she faced Raul again and this time it was she who had ended up pinned to the ground. Snarling, he raised the knife and… the black wolf from before hit him in the chest with its front paws, bowling him completely over.

There was a terrible scream, a flash of jaws, and Raul was dead.

She sat up panting hard, staring at the wolf who had blood dripping from his muzzle.

Julietta reached out a hand and called, "Thank you."

The great animal walked to her and sniffed her gingerly.

*************************************

She woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed.

The morning chores seemed easier and went faster than was usual. They were ready to leave before sunbreak.

*************************************

Raph woke after a very strange dream. He had dreamt that he was shut in a room without windows in complete darkness. He couldn't find the door and no matter how loudly he shouted, nothing happened. Just as he managed to settle down, he heard a far off voice.

It was a girl's voice, screaming in raw fury.

He knew – in the strange way people often know things – that the girl was also locked up.

His wrath returned with a vengeance and he banged his fists against the walls.

The girl's screams turned from anger to fear.

Now Raph was going out of his mind. He had to get to the girl or something terrible would happen.

And then all at once her screams stopped.

Filled with a sorrow and rage he could not explain he howled –

And woke himself up.

***********************************

A few hours after dawn, the seers of the Baldino all seemed to go mad.

They fell to the dirt and convulsed terribly. They screamed of green demons that demanded virgins and brought death upon those who defied them.

Nazario had no choice but to continue on through the forest, though he did give the order that all men and women in the caravan should be armed.

As the day went on, he seers grew so violent that they had to be sedated.

Finally in early afternoon they reached a set of iron gates.

*******************************

Zoey watched with interest as the group of gypsies stood in front of the gates. Were they coming in?

*******************************

The gates swung open immediately.

Julietta had climbed up on the harnesses of Aspen and Arman to see what was going on at the front of the caravan. Her gaze went beyond the iron bars to the gardens beyond them, and then to the castle beyond that.

The great fortress somehow stayed shadowed even with the fierce light of the sun. That added with the perfect silence that seemed to surround it and the strange way that the gates had opened for them, told her that they should not go in there.

They needed to leave.

Right now.

Nazario had just given the order to turn round and go past the suspicious castle when there was a terrible sound that sent both the horses and good number of the gypsies into a panic.

Wolves.

And a lot of them.

Warriors quickly fell back to guard the tail of the caravan as everyone hurried inside, Julietta among the fighters with her kopis blades ready for blood. But even as she readied herself to kill the advancing wolves, the image of the black wolf that had appeared to her twice drummed in her head.

She shook herself. That animal existed only in her dreams! It wasn't going to come charging out of the trees with the others.

Yet the thought of stabbing that black wolf with the amber eyes made her sick.

She was very glad when the gates closed in front of them before the slavering wolves could break through the foliage, because when they did they looked huge and hungry. While she enjoyed a challenging fight, the young woman had no wish to be dog chow.

On Nazario's orders, they did not go any farther into the gardens than was necessary, though Julietta had to let the yearlings free because of their terrified screams. After a few hours, the wolves had finally left and there was no sign of them anywhere.

The seers had all come to by this time and wandered through the wagons, muttering to themselves and rending their garments. However, when Nazario suggested staying the night, they all seemed to go insane at once, screaming and grabbing at his clothes.

"No! No! No! You fool! We must escape the demons!"

"What demons?"

"Those that live in the castle!" one of the elders wailed, pointed a gnarled finger to the forbidding building. "I have seen it! They take virgins into the castle and they let no one leave unless a virgin is offered to them!"

*******************************

Vittoria and the Lady stood several paces away.

"Where the hell do these idiots get this crap?"

"Language!"

********************************

Julietta sat on the roof of her wagon as the caravan leader and elders argued.

Virgins? Good luck with that! She could count the number of virgins in this caravan on one hand.

Who believed in that stuff anyway?

Nazario didn't. "Please, Stefan," he was saying skeptically. "That's just an old wives tale!"

"Try the gate!" the old man ordered hysterically. "Try and open it!"

Looking at the group of elders, resigned, the man marched over to the gates and pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

The gates weren't budging.

Now he was looking nervous and Julietta couldn't blame him. This was freaking her out, too.

"You… you said that they would let us leave if we offered them a virgin?"

Her jaw dropped. Was he seriously thinking about this?

"Yes."

"Well, there aren't very many virgins left in the caravan…"

Apparently so – she would have to keep out of sight.

She climbed down and busied herself training Dancer to come to her when she called.

******************************

The horse had just successfully returned to her after several minutes of calling when a loud scream broke the relative silence of late afternoon.

Julietta quickly tied the young filly with her companions on a post that had appeared when she had set out looking for something to attach the lead rope to and ran to see what was happening.

Dodging through the wagons, she saw there was a large crowd gathered around Nazario's cart. It took a few minutes for her to push her way through the crowd to see what the commotion was about. It was a piece of paper on which a bit of very fancy looking writing was written.

Raul was waving it around. "Can anyone read?"

No one could.

Julietta's own experience with reading and writing was limited to scratching out her name painfully out in the dirt and recognizing it in papers.

Nazario managed to get through, leading the elders, and took the letter from his son.

"The seers have told me many things!"

The young gypsy's blood ran cold. They weren't going to go through with this, were they?

"Julietta!" hissed her grandmother from her elbow. "You should be helping me with dinner!"

"But what about –"

Evelina scoffed. "Let them argue and starve when dinnertime comes! It is almost dark and the stew needs more firewood."

And so Julietta left with her grandmother to help make dinner.

Neither of them heard the announcement.

But even if they had, it would not have made a difference.

**********************************

Whistling softly to herself, Julietta began to spoon the thick stew into two rough wooden bowls. It smelled delicious – but then, she had always been a good cook.

The sky was now fading from dark crimson to softer purple and pink and the shouting that had been coming from the main body of wagons had finally faded. They seemed to have worked it out; she wondered if they were still going to give the so called demons a virgin.

She was handing a bowl to her grandmother when there suddenly Nazario and a dozen other men appeared to them.

Julietta looked at them curiously; did they want some stew? They had been arguing out there when they should have been preparing some food.

"_NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

Her head whipped around to stare at her grandmother who had leapt to her feet then snapped to look at the men. One look at their faces and she understood.

"No way in hell. Get the hell away from us."

And then they were rushed.

"Granma!" she yelled as she kneed Raul in his groin and flipped him onto his back, automatically driving an elbow back into another man's face.

"Don't worry about me!" Evelina barked, slamming her bony little fist into the blacksmith's stomach. "Lost my son and daughter-in-law. Lost all my children. Lost my husband. You ain't takin' my Julie!"

In the end, two burly men – Samone and his brother Abelo – grabbed her arms and Triolo subdued her grandmother.

"Well now, Julietta," Nazario said tonelessly through a broken nose. "I'd never thought you were such a coward as to refuse yourself to save us."

"Coward?!" she raged, kicking furiously at her captors. "You bring more than ten men to hold down an old woman and her granddaughter so that you can sacrifice the girl to save your own goddamn skin! You call me coward?! Release me and give me my kopis and we'll see who the cowards are!"

Raul, his once handsome face now smashed in, leaned close to her face. "Bet you're sorry you didn't marry me now, aren't ya Julie? But it's not too late! If you say you'll marry me, we can forget all of this and give them ugly old Maria instead."

She did not hesitate.

A lob of spit hit the man right in his eye as she snarled something she had once heard a sailor say.

Raul slapped her across the face and looked rather frightened when she lunged at him, nearly breaking the two men's grip on her.

"Bastard! Son of a bitch! Goddamn coward!"

Nazario intervened. "Enough. We don't want to spoil her for the demons. We'll throw her into the castle and then leave."

Julietta fought the entire way, kicking and screaming and even biting at the arms that held her until one of the men yelled, "Knock her out!"

Instantly her head was in agony as a fist collided with the back of it and she had to slump for a moment. The men around her sighed in relief – then gasped as she took advantage of their momentary laxness to turn and kick Samone in the crotch, then spun to deal with Abelo –

Then a thunderbolt descended on her head and then there was nothing.

*******************************************

Vittoria was furious.

She had been building everything up carefully and had had no intention of having the girl who could potentially break the spell for her son offered as a virginal human sacrifice.

**********************************

Raph hadn't been so angry since he had been turned into a turtle.

First those bastards had called him and his family demons and then they had attacked a girl and her grandmother. And now they were dragging the girl's unconscious body over to the front doors like a piece of garbage.

"My son…" Master Splinter began.

"I know, Sensei," he said tightly. "We can't be seen…" As the girl had fought and screamed, the memory of his dream had tormented him, making it almost impossible to remember the rule. "But they think this place is possessed anyway… couldn't we maybe punish them a little?"

"What did you have in mind, my son?"

The big turtle was rather surprised by his father's easy acceptance and chalked it up to him being angry at how those gypsies had treated the young girl. "Well…"

**********************************

Any thoughts that Nazario had had about the castle _not_ being haunted were squashed as they closed the doors of the castle after slinging the senseless body of the girl when huge red flames appeared out of nowhere and chased them away from the castle and then out of the grounds and into the forest.

**********************************

Meanwhile the occupants of the castle looked over their new permanent guest.

**Soooo? Review and tell me what you think!**


	19. Julietta

**Alrighty, tell me what you think of Julietta! Match made in heaven/hell?**

Chapter 18

Julietta

"_Those jerks!"_

"_Meanies!"_

"_Poop Faces!"_

"_I hope they got their faces burneded off!"_

"_You guys are getting quite bloodthirsty, aren't you? Anyway…"_

Raph stared at the body on the marble floor of the entrance hall.

"I've got this," Donny said, stepping forward.

"I'll help," Gwen offered.

"No."

"Master Splinter?"

"Raphael will look after her."

"_Raph?!"_

"_Me?!"_

The old rat looked at him steadily. "You were the one who opted to punish her people, were you not? Now you will care for her until she wakes up."

He gaped at his father, then turned to the still figure lying prone before him.

What's he thinkin'? I ain't a doctor!

The memory of the nightmare came to him and he fought a shudder. He hadn't been able to help that girl in the dream or this girl when she was being attacked but he could look after her a little. It… couldn't be that hard, right?

He knelt by the girl and slowly and carefully rolled her over.

And stared.

This girl was easily as beautiful as Angela, but whereas Angie was pale and blond, this girl was dark and exotic.

He winced at the thought of what she would do when she woke up and carefully slipped an arm around her shoulders and under her knees. She weighed almost nothing in his arms and the hellion that had fought and screamed at the men just a few minutes ago was a far cry to this fragile looking woman now lying limp in his arms.

He headed upstairs to one of the guest rooms.

"Call us if you need any help, Raph!"

"Really, we'll be glad to help!"

"I will join you in a moment, my son."

It occurred to him a few minutes later that he didn't like the way her head was hanging lifelessly over his shoulder like a dead animal and he rearranged her so that she was arranged more comfortably, her head on his shoulder. He growled when he felt the trickle of blood winding its way down her neck and back from her head.

She suddenly moaned and twisted.

He held his breath and stared at her as she opened fuzzy black eyes.

She looked at him. He looked back.

And then she heaved a sigh and closed her eyes again, muttering something about wolves.

"Weird," he muttered.

The room he entered was big and comfortable enough with a soft bed and a huge fireplace.

"Okay," he said to the room at large. "I'm gonna need some water and bandages."

A fire burst into life on the hearth and two tongues of flame flew out and procured a large ceramic bowl of cold water, clean linen bandages and several soft towels.

He laid her on the bed.

"Okay." He grabbed a cloth and dunked it in the water. He wrung it out and looked over his charge.

The girl was lying motionlessly on the bed, her lips moving and her expression changing from calm to confusion.

Raph stared hopelessly from the wet cloth in his hand to the nasty bruise that was spreading on her cheek.

"Here we go." He pressed the cloth to her face and winced when she moaned and tried to roll her head away.

_Gently! Gently!_ The fire hissed at him.

He redunked the cloth and pressed it very gently on her cheek. She sighed and did not try to move away.

_Much better!_

**********************************

Julietta found herself flat on her back in what must have been the castle. Something wet was brushing over her face.

She opened her eyes.

It was the wolf frantically licking at her cheeks and forehead. She groaned and pushed the persistent tongue away.

"It's okay, big fella. I'm alright." She sat up and looked around.

The castle was an old ruin; there was dust on the floors and the grand staircase that must have been quite magnificent in its heyday was torn away, cobwebs were everywhere and she was sure she could hear the squeaks of mice somewhere down the hall.

The wolf drew her attention quickly by grabbing a hank of her skirt in his vicious jaws and tugging her desperately towards the door.

"What's wrong, boy?" she asked, pushing herself to her feet.

He looked up at her and pulled again.

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going. Stop pulling, I'm going to be seriously pissed if you tear my dress."

The great canine trotted ahead and scratched at the door like a house dog begging to be let out. She sighed and opened the door on an overgrown garden – that's strange, she thought. It wasn't like this when they were forcing me into the castle.

The wolf slipped out and turned to look at her.

"Keep your fur on, I'm coming!"

********************************

Raph had just managed to bandage up the gash the idiots had given her to knock her unconscious when Master Splinter entered the room.

"My son?"

"Almost finished, Sensei."

"Raphael."

A sharp twinge of annoyance shot through him, but he faced his father anyway. "Yes?"

"You are aware this girl is a gypsy, correct?"

"I kind of figured it out myself, yeah."

"And you are a gypsy as well."

"No I'm not. My parents were –"

"This makes you a gypsy. Now tell me, if you were given this room, would you like it?"

Taken a bit aback by this, the turtle looked over the room. "It's a nice room."

"But would you like it, my son?"

He looked around, the room was large which was a plus, the fireplace was big which was also a plus, and there wasn't much in the way of fancy decorations another plus, but the ceiling was rather low and the windows small. There would not be a lot of light in here, not that he minded, but it was the feeling of claustrophobia that struck him.

"No. I'd hate it."

"Gypsies are not ones for being closed in. Like Miss Zoey, they like to feel as though they are outside."

Raph was a bit insulted that the room he had chosen had been turned down, yet at the same he couldn't blame the girl if she didn't like it if he wouldn't have. "I'll move her soon as I find a better spot."

"Thank you, Raphael.

"Oh, and make sure you stay with the girl until she awakens. I do not want her panicking."

"You and me both."

******************************

If this was what being dead felt like then she would have been much less averse to going to the castle. She still would have put up a fight of course to show those bastards just how much she appreciated being used as a human sacrifice.

Wait. Hadn't she already woken up in the castle, with the wolf? Hadn't she just been following her companion out of the rusty iron gates?

But the gates hadn't been rusty yesterday. And the wolf was just a dream, wasn't he?

What had he looked like? Black – all black – and… what color eyes?

She couldn't remember.

Was someone talking to her?

Yes, she could hear them.

"Hey, girl? Are y'alright? Can y'hear me?"

She tried to open her eyes and was rewarded by agony in her head. She moaned.

"Don't move too much, girl. You got a nasty bump."

"It feels like my head's been split open."

There was a gruff chuckle. "The bump isn't that bad."

A fresh stab of pain jammed itself in behind her eyes. "Easy for you to say."

"Can you open your eyes?"

"I'm not sure. Don't think I want to try it, either."

"Come on, girl, I need to see if you've got a concussion."

"How can you tell that if I open my eyes?"

"Your eyes'll look weird. Now open up."

Julietta managed to force one eye open and then the other to see –

"Are you really a turtle or did they just hit me too hard?"

"I'm really a turtle."

There was a pause.

"You ain't gonna faint, are ya?"

She sat bolt upright, insulted. "What do I look like? A noblewoman?!"

The turtle grinned a little at that. "Actually, our res noblewoman didn't scream or faint when she saw us."

She looked him over critically. "Whatever. Are you supposed to be the demon of this castle?"

"Do I look like a friggin' demon?!" he snarled.

Her headache intensified, adding to her temper. "Considerin' you look like a swollen turtle and you told my caravan to throw me in here –"

"What the hell are you talkin' about?! _And what do ya mean a swollen turtle?!"_

"Exactly what I said! Are you deaf as well as ugly?"

"Why you -!"

"That will do."

Julietta swung her gaze around to stare at this voice and felt her anger wither in the face of a giant rat.

"But –"

"Enough, Raphael."

The turtle immediately shut up.

"Now, Miss," the rat turned to her. "Would you be so kind as to tell us your name?"

"Why should I?"

"You are our guest," the creature said mildly. "We would like to know what to call you. You may call me Master Splinter and this is my son, Raphael."

Silence.

"Miss, please, your name."

Julietta turned her eyes to her hands. "What was in the letter?"

"I beg your pardon?" Master Splinter said, ears twitching a bit.

"You sent a letter to my caravan, didn't you? What did it say?"

The rat rearranged his long knobby claws around the walking stick he carried. "The letter explained that they were welcome to stay on our grounds as long as they liked but that due to the recent wolf migrations we could not let them leave from sundown until sunrise. It further explained that the only thing we asked of them was to stay out of our home. If anyone entered the house without permission they would be unable to leave."

"So you didn't ask for virgins?"

"Of course not. Didn't your leader read it?"

A hot flush crawled up her neck. "No one in our caravan can read."

"Oh. Oh, dear. I am so very sorry. But, what on earth possessed them to shut you in our house?"

"Our seers said that demons lived in this place and they demanded a young virgin from every group that entered their gates."

The rat's long tail twitched. "I see. Now, Miss… please tell us your name."

She stared hard at them. "Julietta. Of the Baldini clan."

He bowed – actually bowed – to her. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Julietta."

"Sure. When can I leave?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"When can I leave? You know, catch up to my caravan?"

"Didn't ya hear what Master Splinter said?" the turtle snapped. "Anyone who enters the house without permission can't leave."

Julietta felt a swoop of hot fury. "Excuse me? I was thrown in here unconscious! I couldn't do anything about it! What about Abelo and Sasone?"

"No one entered the castle except for you," Splinter told her quietly. "And so you are the only one who must stay."

She snapped.

Her feet swung off the bed and hit the ground. She opened her mouth and raged:

"_It wasn't my fault, goddamnit! You can't do this to me!"_

The ground heaved beneath her and her head gave a hideous wrench of pain. She stumbled, hands clamping down on her ears, trying to steady herself and keep her brain from leaking from her skull.

Her legs gave out and it was only two muscular green arms that kept her from falling.

"Get off of me!" she snarled, ramming her elbow into the turtle's stomach.

It grunted but did not release her.

Her temper had been pushed to the limits and now she was screaming at the two and tearing at the arms that held her tightly.

"_Get off of me, you bastard! Let me go! This isn't my fault! If you don't let me go right now I swear I'll kill you! Let me go!"_

But the arms were like iron bands binding her arms to her sides and her flailing and kicking legs were doing nothing for her. This was not the way she fought! She stayed away from her opponents and darted in close to score quick injuries. She had no leverage like this.

This was bad. She was panicking and the hysteria was translating to more anger, but not all of it.

"_You can't keep me here! I want to leave! Let me go! Dammit! Fuck you! Let me go!!"_

Something descended on the back of her neck and tightened sharply.

The feeling went out of her legs and a feeling of intense exhaustion swept her and she slumped against the turtle's plated chest.

A quiet soothing voice spoke gently to her. "Do you like this room, child?"

"The… sky is crush…ing me… where's the sun…?"

Something… the turtle… was holding her… carrying her… where were they…?

*********************************

Raph sighed deeply when the girl's dark eyes finally slipped closed. "This girl's nuts."

"She is upset, my son," his father said quietly. "She is allowed to act "nuts" as you say."

Father and son were silent for a long moment to stare at the slender young woman in the turtle's arms.

"She is rather like you, Raphael."

"What?"

"Her temper is as terrible yours."

He shifted guiltily, looking at the now calm face hanging over his arm, long dark curly hair hanging gracefully. "I guess."

Another silence.

"Yes, she is rather beautiful, isn't she?"

Raph snapped his gaze away from the girl to look at his father. "What?"

"Come now, Raphael. What do you think of her?"

Suspicious amber eyes shot to his father's darker ones. "No way, Sensei. Don't even think about it!"

"She could break the spell for you, my son."

"Yeah, one problem with that, Master. She hates us both."

"Perhaps. But we have nothing but time. Now, tell me, what do you think of her?"

The red-banded turtle clenched his teeth. "She's okay."

"Elaborate, please."

"She has a nice face… I guess… and… yeah…"

Master Splinter smiled at that and turned away –

And was it his imagination or had he heard an "It's a start"?

"Oh and Raphael? Make sure that you find her a more suitable room, and see that she gets a bath and a fresh change of clothes."

Then the rat was gone, leaving Raph with an unconscious woman lying in his arms, looking like a corpse. He groaned and rearranged her so that she didn't look quite so helpless.

************************************

Julietta had just been running through the woods after the wolf when the sun was suddenly glaring in her face.

She opened her eyes and immediately rolled over.

It took her a moment to process that she was no longer in her clothes – she was now in a silky white nightgown with a red ribbon tied at the neck to keep the front closed – she seemed to have received a bath, and now she was in a different room.

She threw off the covers – red, she noted with faint approval – and slid off of the bed. There was a huge window directly across from the bed, stretching from a gold and red window seat three feet off the ground to the ceiling, where it stretched unto the ceiling, providing her with an excellent view of the morning sky. On either side of the window was a single wardrobe; each one sprung open when she looked at them, showing off their impressive collection of dresses. To her direct right was a bare desk with a matching chair and two bookcases, one filled with books, the other empty. On the left was a huge fireplace, the mantle hung with several weapons (she gasped when she recognized her twin kopis blades and hunting knife), and surrounded with four squashy arm chairs. The walls were painted burgundy and every inch of the furniture was a strange golden color. The wall behind her had the bed, a bedside table – _and the door._

The gypsy girl half ran to it but drew back immediately at the sight of high flames that blocked the door. She hissed when two tongues of flame neatly separated themselves from the larger mass confronting her and snatched at her wrists.

"Sorry," she growled. "Burns aren't really my style."

The fire extended towards her again, quick as a serpent, and this time it managed to loop around her wrist, but oddly enough, it didn't burn at all – merely gave off a comfortable warmth.

"Let me go!" She tried to pry the flames off and received a retaliatory increase of the heat.

"Ow! Stop that right now!"

The fire dragged her over to the window seat where she was shocked to see another turtle and what looked like a blond human woman walking through a magnificent garden. And was even more shocked when a table quite abruptly appeared beside the window seat, covered with a soft lacy tablecloth and several covered dishes.

She was pushed unceremoniously onto the window seat and the plates and bowls bared their contents to her, revealing hot mush she didn't recognize, toasted bread, a pitcher of milk, one of something that smelled and looked like coffee, and pots of honey and sugar.

Julietta stared at it all for a moment, contemplating the loud complaints of her stomach, before pushing it all away and stomping to the door. This time she blatantly ignored the flames that raged up in front of the door and grabbed the door knob.

Locked.

She kicked the door solidly and was rewarded with a sharp dizziness that sent her falling on her ass.

Warmth wrapped itself under her arms and hauled her to her feet and once again led her to the table.

"No! I don't want it, let me go!" she turned to glare at the flames that were shoving her.

The fire _glared_ at her – how could anything with no face glare? – but released her. It sizzled through the air, coming to a halt before one of the wardrobes and procuring a very fancy red dress which it offered to her.

She nearly laughed out loud. "No way in hell."

For a split second the fire seemed to freeze in midair – Julietta was getting a very bad feeling about this – and then it rushed her, shoving the dress over her head.

Thus began a vicious fight, the fire trying to put the dress on the gypsy, and she tearing at the dress, determined not to wear it. The bodice went over her head, at which point she dropped to her knees, grabbed the dress and wrenched it from her body, tossing it into the corner. She wrapped her arms around her bare chest, noting with relief that she was still wearing underwear, and stared down the fire, daring it to come at her again with another silk monstrosity.

Four dresses later, the blaze wearily offered a much simpler gown, but fancier than anything she had ever worn. Still… she looked over dress with approval.

It had a black top with a simple square cut neckline and long sleeves that were slit along the outside of her arm and tied closed every five inches, exposing a bit of skin between each knot. The skirt was a two piece, the underskirt which was plain white and went down to her ankles, and the outerskirt which was red, several inches shorter than the white part, and opened in the front to show the white beneath.

"Where are my clothes?"

The fire merely wagged the outfit at her.

"Fine."

There was a whoosh of fire and cloth and within a few moments she was dressed in the black top and red and white skirts; apparently the fire was taking no chances on her changing her mind.

But she had no complaints with the dress. She did, however, have a problem with the black boots they had shoved on her feet and the bun thing that her hair had been twisted into.

Julietta sank onto the floor and yanked off the shoes and jerked the pin out of her long hair. Grabbing a handful of her skirt, she prepared to rip off a portion of her skirt to use to pull her hair back but was immediately stopped by the fire which shoved a red and black bandana into one hand and a piece of toast into the other and jostled her from the room and slammed the door behind her.

The gypsy smirk-glared at the door. "Was I annoying you?"

The door opened wide and slammed hard enough to shake its frame.

Julietta laughed darkly.

**REVIEW!!!**


	20. The Horses

**Thank you so much for your awesome reviews! I'm glad you like Julietta!**

Chapter 19

The Horses

"_How come she didn't like dresses?"_

"_I don't like dresses, either," pointed out one of the girls._

"_Why not? They're so pretty!"_

"_You can't run in them!"_

"_Anyway…"_

Zoey skipped through the daisies, chattering away to Gwen. "See, Gwennie? Aren't they pretty? What are we going to do with them? Why didn't they take them with them? Don't you think they've got to be worth a lot of money?"

Gwen smiled patiently. "Zoe, I can only answer one question at a time. And right now we need to concentrate on what we're going to do with them."

Angela crossed her arms and stared at the wild horses grazing in the flowerbeds. Two were black, two chestnut, one brown, one bay, one dun, one grey, one white, and one appaloosa. All appeared to be about a year old and all seemed to be completely wild.

"What should we do with them, Master Splinter?" she asked.

The old warrior leaned on his staff, watching the horses browse through an elegant arrangement of lilies. "They belong to our new guest. Hopefully she will be able to control them."

"Why don't we just coax them out of the castle grounds?"

The former acrobat gasped out loud at Angela's suggestion.

"No," the rat stated firmly. "They belong to Julietta and I believe that sending them away would only make things worse."

"Her name is Julietta?" Gwen asked.

"Yes."

"That would make her Julie!" Zoey squealed.

"Why don't we hang off on the nicknames until we actually meet this girl?" Donny advised, standing a good ways away from the horses with his brothers. "Mikey, get back here!"

"Ah come on! I haven't been this close to horses in –"

A little brown horse glanced up to see the giant turtle only twenty feet away and reared up, screaming. This in turn caused a chain reaction that had all of the horses stampeding through the gardens, and since they were all tied together, the horses were bouncing off of each other as they ran off.

"Stop them!" Leo yelled.

"Horses don't like us, Fearless, how the hell're we supposed to do that?"

The lighter colored-chestnut horse somehow managed to get tangled up in the legs of one of the black colts, which brought the whole herd to a screeching, rolling halt.

"We take advantage of that!" Angela declared, reaching for a halter.

And snatching her hand back as the other black yearling snapped at it.

"_What the hell is going on here?"_

**********************************

Gwen looked over the strange young woman sprinting towards them, her dark hair bound up with a red bandana. She was extremely beautiful but at the moment rather angry looking.

No. Not rather angry. A better phrase would have been: Completely furious. Or maybe: filled with the intense desire to maim something.

Whatever it was, the girl pushed through all of them and grabbed the halter that Angela had been unable to grasp.

The black colt snapped at her.

The dark-skinned stranger jerked one hand back and slapped the other against the nasty creature's skull. "Try that again, Demonio, and you ain't eatin' for a week."

She grabbed the halter. The foal did not attempt to bite again.

In less than ninety seconds, she had them each upright and looking incredibly ashamed of themselves. She turned to the eight individuals staring at her in blatant shock. "You wanna help?"

"Oh! Okay!" Zoey bounced happily over and held out a hand.

"Quit hopping."

"But – but – but…"

"What?"

"I don't know how!"

"Whatever. You! In the purple dress! Yeah, you, c'mere."

Gwen cautiously walked over. "Umm, my name is Gwen."

"I don't need your name. I need your hand."

Gwen straightened up, insulted. "Excuse me?"

The girl sighed, grabbed her arm, forced open her hand, and slapped two lead robes into it. "You know anything about horses?"

"No." The brown haired girl looked up nervously into the dark eyes of a brown and white spotted horse and a smaller brown one.

"Well you're gonna learn. Hey blondie!"

Angie looked highly affronted, turned icy silver eyes on the newcomer's black ones. "My name is Angela."

"How nice for you. You gonna help?"

The blonde folded her arms gracefully across her chest.

"Fine," the girl snapped. She looked at Zoey, who was trying her hardest not to bounce. "You take these two."

Zoey looked at the pretty chestnut and the brown horse she now held. "They are so pretty!"

"And heavy. Don't let them step on your foot." The black eyes came to rest upon Mikey. "Orange-boy! Get over here!"

As soon as the irrepressible turtle took one step forward, the horses immediately started tugging at their leads.

"Stop!"

Mikey stopped.

"Stay right there while I sort this out."

"Wait a moment, Miss Julietta," Splinter said quietly. "Perhaps you should introduce yourself to everyone."

The girl spared them all the smallest of glances. "Name's Julietta. Hi."

Then she faced each of the horses coldly. The equine fidgets came to a stop abruptly.

"Orange-"

"Mikey."

"Whatever, come here. Slowly."

Mikey walked over to her, going slower and with more care than Gwen had ever seen him use in all the seven months that she had known him.

"Okay," Julietta said, separating one of the ropes from the others. "This one's not as smart as the others. He might not be as scared of you as long as you feed him."

So Mikey took the lead of a skittish brown horse with black on its nose, legs, and in his mane and tail. "Do they like apples?"

"Love apples."

"Cool," he said, pulling a red apple from his belt and offering it to the horse that was now eyeing him nervously. "What's its name?"

"He doesn't have one."

"Can I name him?" Mikey laughed as the horse took the apple from his green fingers.

"I don't care."

"Titan!"

"What kind of name is Titan?" Raph demanded sourly.

"OOOO! OOOO!" Zoey squealed, beginning to bounce again.

"You're bouncing… girl."

"I'm Zoey! Can I name one too? Please?"

"Fine. Stop bouncing. You're giving the chestnut filly ideas."

Gwen looked at the chestnut horse and giggled; the 'filly' was bouncing its head up and down vigorously, imitating Zoey.

"A filly means it's a girl, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then this one's Rosie!"

"Stop bouncing!"

"What is wrong with this one?"

Angela was now being stared down by a beautiful white horse that stood among the others that Julietta was holding as though he was lord of them all.

"What, this one? She likes you. Here, take her."

The look on Angie's face when the white horse was shoved towards her was priceless. Gwen turned to her own charges, fighting a laugh. Meanwhile, Julietta continued handing out horses.

"Hey, Blue-boy!"

She was pointing at Leo. "Take this one, will'ya?"

He stepped forward cautiously and was given a handsome horse with a dark gold body and a dark brown mane and tail. The animal stood a little ways away from him as though it was afraid he would attack, but after a few moments it took a careful step forwards and sniffed at his arm.

All at once, the one Julietta had called Demonio reared up, nearly throwing her to the ground and made a noise that hurt Gwen's ears, pawing at the air.

"Dammit!" the horse's owner yelled, immediately following up with several foreign words that she recognized as gypsy tongue. And not the nicest ones, either.

Well, that made sense. What other race of people could produce such a wild and horse savvy young woman.

"Red, c'mere!"

Raph hesitated.

The black colt started to buck.

"Now, goddamnit!"

"Raphael!" Master Splinter barked, stepping forward himself.

The big turtle ran over to the girl.

"Grab his halter! Just deal with the biting!"

***********************************

Raph could not believe this; last night, this girl had been fighting and cursing at him and now he was grabbing the halter of a crazy black colt that was now viciously sinking teeth into his forearm.

"Hold on, Red!"

The horse's head was jerked away from his now bleeding arm and a loop of leather went around the snapping muzzle and tightened. Then, the girl twisted the struggling animal's head mercilessly.

"Demonio! Stop right now or you can go to the wolves!"

Demonio went still, though his dark eyes blazed with violence.

"Okay," the girl panted. "He's settled down for now." She turned to Master Splinter.

For the first time, there was a note of respect in her voice. "Sir, do ya have stables around here?"

"We do," he said with a nod. "Raphael and Leonardo will show you where they are."

And so, Raph walked along with the girl on either side of the bad-tempered horse, Demonio. Gwen, Zoey, Angela, Mikey, and Leo followed with their horses and Donny tagged along, curiously.

On the girl's other side trotted two other foals, a black one that kept jerking at her arm and a docile steel grey colt.

Finally, they reached the stables and Raph was surprised; the building had received a thorough cleaning in the very recent past. The once smudged windows were now spotlessly clean, the gravel paths around them had been raked smooth, the wooden posts for tying horses to had been replaced, and the very wood and stone of the structure seemed to have been scrubbed clean.

Around it, the corrals had been repaired and were now ready for horses.

The girl whistled in approval. "Nice facilities."

She released Demonio, approached the door and pushed it open.

Raph entered, the memories of the horses leaving him after what had happened almost three years ago heavy on his mind. The cobwebs were gone, the sand covering the floor was smooth and clean, and the smell of fresh hay hit his nose.

"Okay." She turned to face her helpers. "Thanks for your help and everything but I can take it from here. Just tie the horses to those posts over there and I'll deal with them."

Leo and Angie complied and left, but the others hung around.

The gypsy girl eyed the remainder in annoyance. "Can I help you?"

"Ummm…" Gwen looked thoughtfully at the sweet filly nuzzling her shoulder. "Do you think I could name her?"

"Fine."

"And do you think I could learn to ride her?"

"If you can find a teacher."

"I mean… will you teach me?"

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you, Julietta." Gwen gave her a gentle smile and tied up the horses to an unoccupied post. Giving the brown horse a light pat, she said, "Good-bye, Willow."

The pretty, shy girl walked away with Donatello.

Smirking, Raph made a silent bet to himself that the new girl would be teaching Gwen to ride by the end of the week. And today was Friday.

"OOOO!" Zoey bounced as she tied up the light brown horse. "Can I ride Rosie sometime?"

"You know how to ride?"

"A little."

"We'll see. Now tie up… Rosie and get lost."

"Okay! Bye Julie!"

Judging by the look on the girl's face, Zoey's new nickname was not well received but the acrobat had already secured the filly and run off by the time she could come up with anything to say.

"She always like that?"

"Zoey?" Mikey said. "Yeah, isn't she cool?"

He tied up his horse and ran off after his friend.

The girl tied up her horses, wrestling a moment with a spirited black filly, then turned to face Raph and Demonio.

"So. What am I going to do with you, demon?"

She nodded curtly at Raph who was still holding the wild black horse. "You can go."

"I'm stayin'."

"I can handle myself. And don't think that I'm gonna try to run away – the gates are locked and there're too many rose vines to get over the wall."

He stared at her. "You tried to get out?"

She took Demonio's lead. "Gypsies don't do well in closed walls."

"_You tried to get out?!"_

"Don't yell around the horses," she said flatly. "And stop that bleeding."

"I'm stayin'."

"Whatever. Just stay out of my way."

***************************

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Mary Sweet asked, nervously as she watched the gypsy girl begin to groom and put her horses away while Raphael watched silently from an empty stall.

Vittoria smiled. "Just wait."

***************************

Julietta put away Dancer last of all, spending extra time rubbing down the young horse's muscular chest and flanks, brushing out the thick mane and tail, and picking out the dainty feet.

Once she was finally finished, she made sure that the stall was comfortable enough for her filly and left.

The others were happily dozing or munching on hay in their stalls. She noted the shiny plaques set in several stall doors; each had a word on it. There was one for Dancer, one for the slender brown filly that the girl Gwen had named Willow, for the chestnut filly that – was it Zoey? – had named Rosie, the bay colt the turtle had called Titan, and for Demonio.

She bent to examine one.

"Yeah, they put those up a while ago." It was the red turtle.

"You still here?"

"Seems so. Got a problem with that?"

She shrugged. "If you want to waste your time, it's your choice."

Turning back to the plaque, she ran her finger over the markings. "Are these supposed to be names?"

"Uh, yeah. It says Dancer. Can't you – oh. Right."

Her temper flared and she whipped her head around to scowl at the turtle.

"Watch it, Red."

"Red? _Red?_ Did you just call me 'Red'?"

"Yes," Julietta grinned and readied herself for battle.

For the next fifteen minutes, there was nothing but shouting coming from the stables.

But when Julietta came stomping out, she knew what she was going to do if she couldn't leave.

Now. Where would that girl Gwen be?

******************************

Gwen bent low over a text that was probably thicker than her waist, reading about the star patterns during summer. There was going to be comet in two nights' time and she wanted to be ready for it.

"Hey, it's Gwen, right?"

She turned and blinked.

It was the new girl, Julietta, now with straw stuck all over her dress and in her hair.

"Yes, it is. Hello, Julietta."

The young woman looked rather nervous – which rather astonished Gwen; she wouldn't have thought the girl capable of timidity.

"D'you still want to learn to ride?"

Fingers clenching on the edges of the book, Gwen looked up into the other girl's dark eyes. "You mean it?"

"What would y'give me in return?"

Her heart abruptly sank. "What do… do you want?"

"You know how to read."

She glanced at the enormous book, wondering where this was going. "Yes…"

"If you'll teach me to read, then I'll show you how to saddle, groom, and ride a horse. I'll teach you anything you want about horses."

Gwen stared. Julietta stared back.

"I agree."

A beautiful white smile stretched across the gypsy's dark face. "When do we start?"

**************************

Raph barely kept from throwing something. That… that… girl was so damn… couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?

She just kept pushing and pushing. Didn't she know that he could snap her in half?

"Hey, bro! Watch it!"

"Raph, get out of the way!"

He looked up to see, Mikey and Zoey barreling towards him on a servant's food cart. It took less than a nanosecond to process what he was seeing and an even shorter amount of time to get out of the way.

The two careened around a corner and what sounded like a flight of stairs.

There was an almighty bang that sent him sprinting down the hall after them; Mikey had a shell and could probably survive just about anything, but Zoey didn't.

Were those two completely insane?! Whose stupid idea had this been? Before Zoey had come, he would have put all his money on Mikey but now the girl was proving herself just as crazy and stupid as Mikey – no wonder they were getting to be best friends.

A door opened with a loud thump as it bounced against the door and a voice that was quickly becoming familiar ran out:

"_What the hell were you two doing?!"_

Raph finally came upon the scene; the cart was smashed against a wall and Mikey and Zoey were sprawled on the floor; Mikey was lying on his shell, rocking lightly back and forth, and Zoey was spread-eagled crossways over his carapace.

Both of the idiots were shrinking before the wrathful form of Julietta standing over them.

The gypsy girl's feet were planted shoulder width apart, fists on her hips, and her expression murderous.

"_Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?!"_

Just behind the raging girl was the quieter form of Gwen, clutching a slender book to her skinny chest.

As it seemed that the new girl had everything under control, he merely leaned back against the wall and watched. She gave them a solid dressing down, jamming a finger into the culprits' faces, still ranting about how stupid they had been, etc., etc.

He was impressed.

"_Now get the hell out of my face and if you even _think_ about doing anything like this again, so help me I'm gonna-"_

"Kill us?" Zoey offered, terrified.

Even Raph was impressed by the way she completely lost her head.

***********************

Dinner was a rather subdued affair, with Julietta stabbing at her elegantly cooked fillet mignon, made even angrier by the fact that her voice had failed somewhere between telling Mikey he was a moron of epic proportions, and then turning on Raph demanding why he just let these two menaces run loose. Raph was furious that the girl had started in on him. Leo and Angie were quietly discussing a new meditation technique. Zoey and Mikey had their heads together, putting together a retaliatory blow on the new girl – specifically in the form of pranks. Donny and Gwen were talking about the comet and which tower would be best to see it.

Splinter just watched it all, eyes trained on his second eldest and the gypsy girl glaring darkly at their plates.

It was a good thing that they had so much time; they had a long way to go.

**Alright. Now remember. I need reviews to update. They feed me. **

**Now press that damn button! ;)**


	21. Blue Days

**Thanks for your awesome reviews! here is your reward!**

Chapter 20

Blue Days

"_How come she didn't know how to read?"_

"_Who didn't need to learn to read?"_

_It was a new woman, looking around at them all._

"_This lady in the story."_

"_What story?"_

"_This one!"_

"_Interesting, please go on." She sat down among them._

"_What happens next?"_

Angela sat beneath her favorite willow tree, a book lying open in her lap as she watched Julietta running a hand along the body of a black foal, teaching Gwen the different parts of the horse's body as the quieter girl practiced on the gentle brown filly.

The noblewoman thought of the pretty white filly from yesterday and wondered if Julietta would allow her to ride it. She was an accomplished horsewoman but had never really _had_ a horse. Her uncle and father had always just sort of assigned her a horse to ride and she had never been around one long enough to form a bond.

She shrugged and stood up. It wouldn't hurt just to visit the filly.

An abrupt yelp attracted her attention and she was shocked to see the horse Julietta was working with rear up and scream loudly as Raph abruptly appeared at the edge of the corral. The gypsy girl was hurled off of her feet and landed on her back just beyond the flailing hooves. The black filly bucked and kicked all the way to the other side of the paddock.

"You idiot!" Julietta hissed, rolling to her feet. "Make some noise when you come towards the horses! You make them skittish enough without you just popping up!"

Raph swelled with fury. "This's my house. I'll do whatever the hell I want!"

"Please you two!" Gwen pleaded, running a hand over her nervous horse's neck. "Don't fight!"

Both subsided reluctantly, the turtle huffing and slumping onto the fence and the girl turning her attention to running after her horse, which was still trying to get out of the corral.

Angela was impressed; it seemed that Gwen, for all her shyness, had a good influence on the two wildest inhabitants of the castle. She went to stand beside Raph.

He gave her a stiff nod, which she returned graciously before turning her attention to the dark haired girl pulling the rearing foal onto all fours.

"Where did you learn so much about horses?"

The gypsy glanced at her carelessly over her shoulder. "My family specializes in horse training. You gonna take out the white filly?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's the reason you're here, isn't it?"

"So y'just assume ya know what everybody wants?" Raph demanded.

"Why're ya talking 'bout something that doesn't concern you?"

Angie traded a resigned look with Gwen – was it absolutely impossible for these two to be in any kind of proximity without arguing with each other?

"What did ya say?!"

Apparently so.

The two other girls sighed deeply and walked away from the two feuding teens, towards the stables, Gwen leading Willow.

"They don't get along very well, do they?"

The noblewoman pursed her lips, just barely holding in a very unladylike snort. "Oh no. They remind me of a cat and dog."

Her friend giggled, walking into the stables. "But who's the dog and who's the cat?"

Angie chuckled. "It's hard to tell. I think they switch off."

"You know," Gwen said, leading the foal into its stall. "If you're going to be working with one of the horses, you should give it a name. Julietta says that it makes the horse more responsive to have a name to answer to."

"Julietta said that?"

"Oh, yes! She knows a lot about horses." The young woman began to rub down her horse, humming softly and slightly off-key.

****************************

About a week later, Leo was sitting on the floor on the rug in front of the hearth, polishing his katanas and talking to Angela on the pros and cons of fighting on a horse versus those encountered when fighting on the ground.

"Well, you have the higher ground," Angie pointed out, her embroidery hoop lying abandoned on her lap. "That's always a good advantage to have."

"That's true, but while you're on a horse, you don't have as many options for moving out of the way. You're stuck on the horse. On the ground, you can get around your opponents more easily, dodging instead of just bulling through on a horse."

"Touché."

He took a moment to glance around the room.

Master Splinter was reading one of his stories in his favorite chair by the fireplace. Donny and Gwen were arguing over a complicated mathematical formula by the window. Mikey was scribbling away on the floor, breaking off on his writing to chew thoughtfully on the feather of his quill. Zoey was staring dreamily into the flames. Julietta was hunched over a piece of paper, muttering to herself. Raph glared at her as though trying to burn her alive by the sheer darkness of his gaze.

Leo caught his eye and gave him a reproachful look. Be civil! He mouthed.

His brother responded with an equally silent retort, though this one involved much stronger words. But he went over to Julietta and peered over her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" his voice was strained with forced politeness.

"Reading."

"Oh."

"Think fast, Raph!"

Before anyone could stop him, Mikey hurled a balled up piece of paper at his brother. Raph growled and tried to bat the projectile away, but somehow managed to get his feet tangled up in Julietta's skirt and fell hard backwards onto the table she had been using as a desk, splitting it with a terrific crash.

Everyone leapt to their feet, except for Raph who was a bit stunned and Julietta whose legs were pinned by Raph's shell.

Predictably, it was Julietta who spoke first. _"You idiot!"_ She then rounded on Mikey. _"And you! What the hell what were you thinking?! Get out of my sight!"_

"Miss Julietta," Master Splinter said quietly. "Please calm down."

The young woman closed her mouth and glared down at the turtle practically sprawled on her lap. "Red? Get off me."

As Raph got up, looking ready to strangle the audacious young woman, Leo found that he was immensely glad that he was speaking with Angela instead rather than the young gypsy.

"Leo?"

"What? Oh, sorry, Angie, what were you saying?"

Silvery eyes rolled playfully. "I was just asking if you wanted to come and meet Lady tomorrow."

"Lady?"

"The white filly – Julietta gave me permission to break her to the saddle, after I tame her of course."

"I don't think so, Angie. Horses don't really like us."

The young woman ran her hands over her navy blue skirt. "Leo, if they're going to stay here they need to get used to you guys. Besides, I'd like your opinion on her.

"Please, Leo?"

He sent her a smile. "Okay, tomorrow morning after practice?"

"Sounds perfect."

******************************

Angela hummed as she slipped the leather halter over Lady's pristine head. She and Leo had decided that him trying to walk into the stables was a sure recipe for disaster. She would introduce horse and turtle in the open area that held the mounting blocks and posts for tying horses.

It helped that everyone was occupied in the castle: Mikey and Raph were inside with Master Splinter doing some kind of punishment exercise after their insane behavior during morning training – Mikey had pulled down Raph's belt, which led his brother to tackle him and put him in a vicious headlock – Donny was in his workshop fiddling with some contraption that he was calling a phonograph, Zoey was wandering through the rooms on the fourth floor, and Gwen and Julietta were in the library practicing spelling.

Thus, there was nothing to frighten or distract the beautiful white filly.

Nothing but the six plus foot tall turtle waiting outside…

She took a firmer grip on the lead rope and walked out of the stables.

Lady stopped dead, her slender head turned towards the big green figure standing a few feet away. Her ears lay against her skull and her nostrils flared.

"Easy, pretty girl," Angie whispered into the filly's ear. "It's okay. You'll like Leo. He's very nice."

She managed to drag the nervous yearling into the center of the saddling ring, murmuring relaxingly.

"Okay, Leo!" she called, giving the signal for him to begin his slow approach.

It took almost fifteen minutes of soothing and stroking the increasingly uneasy horse until Angie could feel Leo right behind her. She turned her back on the horse and spoke to her terrapin friend.

"What do you think of her?"

Leo's strange dark eyes looked over Lady. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and gentle, "She has good lines. It looks like there might be some Arabian in her."

"Well that would explain her coloring."

"I can see why you call her Lady. She is very beautiful."

"She looks even better when she's not panicking."

"I can tell."

They continued their brisk, rather pointless conversation.

"Do you really think it's as productive to ride a horse bareback as it is to ride with a saddle?" Angie said skeptically.

"I've seen… people ride horses bareback and seen them ride better than others who rode with saddle. Sometimes better than those who use a bit and bridle."

"Ride without a bit and bridle?" She couldn't imagine being able to control the horse without at least a bit. "What about a halter?"

He shrugged his big shoulders carelessly. "The best rider I ever knew could ride without anything at all. He could ride circles around any rider around."

"Who was he?"

"Raph."

"Raphael?" She tried to imagine the wild-tempered Raph working with horses and failed.

"Yeah." A rather wistful smile spread across the green face. "Raph used to be the best rider in the whole country. He could outride anyone."

"What happened?"

"Well, Raph got older and he… well, changed."

"Changed? How do you mean?"

Angie barely noticed Lady's inquisitive nose coming between them, until she extended her head to sniff timidly at Leo's arm.

She watched carefully as Leo very slowly raised his large hand up to the horse.

Lady promptly threw up her head, snorting, and shied away as far as the lead rope would allow.

"C'mon, pretty one," Leo said softly, not moving. "I'm not going hurt you…"

It took another twenty minutes for Lady to gather up her courage again and very carefully take the five steps that separated her from the blue-banded turtle. When the filly placed her quivering nose into his hand, a serene smile spread across his broad cheeks.

This gave her pause.

She had seen Leo smile many times of course… but never like this.

Heat spread on her cheeks.

Control yourself, Angela! She scolded herself, staring determinedly at her hands, twisting the leather of the lead nervously.

"Angie?"

She looked up and saw the smile he had given Lady was now directed at her.

Had she really thought she was hot before? She was sadly mistaken – she had somehow managed to spontaneously combust.

"Angie? You okay?"

"What?"

"You're all flushed." He reached out a concerned hand.

She ducked away from his hand. "Of course, it's just the heat."

He looked up at the sun. "Is it really that hot?"

Surprised, Angie glanced at him. "Can't you feel it?"

"Sure, but it doesn't really bother me… Is that why you're wearing that dress?"

Her blush deepened. It had been oppressively hot when she had woken up, though the servants had done their level best to cool her room, opening the windows and offering her fresh fruit and a strange meal that she was growing very fond of – little bits of flavored dry bread floating in milk **(A.N. Let's pretend they had cereal)**. She had opted to trade in her very formal dressing habit for a much lighter outfit.

The skirt was a pale blue with nothing beneath it and the plain bodice was white, with sleeves that were wide and reached only to her elbows instead of to her wrists. It was much more casual than anything she had ever worn before, but it had just been too hot to deal with petticoats, brocade, laces, or ribbons.

"It's too hot to wear anything else."

"Well, it looks nice on you."

A smile, one that was neither vague nor polite, spread across her face. "Thank you. So what do you think of her?"

Leo laid a hand on Lady's graceful neck, earning a nervous shiver but nothing else. "She's beautiful and brave. She's a good horse."

Angela grinned up at him. "Do you think she's good for me?"

The turtle looked her up and down for a moment, then turned to the yearling swinging her head from him to Angie, curious about the strange feelings swirling between her mistress and the strange, gentle creature.

A pause –

"Definitely. A lady always needs the company of another Lady."

She laughed lightly. "The other horses are growing used to you all. I believe Zoey introduced Rosie to Mikey yesterday when he came to see the one he calls Titan."

"Titan." He shook his head. "If it had been a Clydesdale I would have understood but it's just a Quarter Horse with a little Morgan blood."

"Actually, Titan has a bit of racing blood in him. You should see him run from Julietta whenever she tries to put him away for the night."

"I'm sure that doesn't help her temper." He stroked Lady's neck and smiled when the horse merely arched her neck.

"Actually, she handles it remarkably well – she might be faster than me. Almost all of the horses have names now, you know: there's Lady, Willow, Titan, Dancer, Demonio, Rosie, Angel, and Boomer."

"Who're Angel and Boomer?"

"The spotted filly and the lighter chestnut colt. Angel is a sweetheart and Boomer won't stop kicking the stable wall."

"Who does that leave?"

"The grey colt and the dun colt. Donny's naming the grey colt tomorrow, so that just leaves the dun." She turned to him, smiling. "You should name him."

"I don't think –"

A slight twinge of annoyance went through her. "Leo, please. The horses won't be terrified of you for much longer. And it's just a name, what harm could it do?"

**************************

Angela brushed Lady's tail, humming happily to herself. Leo had gone back inside a few minutes ago after dubbing the colt Ranger, with the explanation that he had to tell Master Splinter something but promising to join her for her evening walk in the garden. Before he had walked off, he had run a light hand over her shoulder in farewell.

A strange feeling had been welling up inside of her ever since, growing stronger and stronger in her stomach, making her feel gloriously light.

By the time she let Lady out in one of the paddocks, she felt as though she was going to float off of the ground in the contented haze.

"ANGIE!"

She turned to see Zoey practically bouncing towards her, Gwen and Julietta bringing up the rear.

"Isn't it such a pretty day?" the acrobat asked, hopping around her like a hyper rabbit. She wore a pale orange cotton skirt that stopped between her ankles and knees with a light yellow blouse with sleeves that stopped several inches below her elbow. As usual she had her hair in a ponytail and was barefoot.

"It is," she agreed, looking up at the bright sky.

"So what're you doing around here, Goldilocks?" Julietta was dressed in her usual attire – a burgundy skirt that stopped just beneath her knees and a white bodice that had no sleeves at all, showing off her lean tanned arms. A red bandana was twisted through her dark hair and she also spurned shoes.

"Just visiting Lady."

The gypsy nodded. "How's that going?"

"Very well, actually. And what about you all?"

Zoey giggled. "Mikey and I just got finished with a water fight."

"And pulled us into it," Gwen said, smiling, motioning to the fading water marks on her skirt. She balanced between comfort and practicality. Her skirt was lilac and ended several inches above her ankles, revealing her sandaled feet. Her shirt was white and light cotton and short sleeved.

"We're heading back to the castle. You comin'?"

"I suppose."

Immediately, Zoey looped one arm through hers and linked the other with Julietta's. "Come on then!"

"Hey let go!" Julietta complained as the cheerful girl started skipping, dragging her victims along. Pulling against Zoey was no good at all, for all her size the girl was very strong.

"Don't be so stiff! Come on Gwennie, catch up!"

Gwen laughed out loud and fell in beside Julietta, linking arms and skipping along.

There was a moment of disarray as the two hostages were forced to fall into step, but soon Angie couldn't help but skip too. After all, no one here cared if she acted like a lady all the time, did they? She laughed as her long legs put her slightly ahead of Gwen and Zoey's shorter strides and Julietta's unenthusiastic ones.

"Julie, please!" Gwen pleaded. "Lighten up! It's not so bad here – admit it, you're starting to really like it here."

The gypsy's dark look did not improve.

"Be happy Julie!" Zoey giggled, pressing her pink cheek against Julietta's bronze one.

"Leave her alone, girls," Angela scolded. "If she wants to act boring, let her."

Bright dark eyes immediately fell upon the noblewoman. "Boring, huh? We'll see about that, Goldilocks. Come on, race ya!"

The four girls were off like shots, skirts whipping around the light boots, sandals, and bare feet. They flew across the fields and hills, through the gardens, and up the steps to the huge main doors.

Julietta was a split second faster, her bare feet skidding across the rug in the entrance hall. Angela came in directly on her heels, her normally neat blond hair a mess down her back. Zoey ran in green eyes dancing with happiness. Last to enter was Gwen, giggling and panting by turns.

They collapsed together in the hall, laughing breathlessly.

"I love it here," Zoey sighed, staring up at the stained glass windows that cast multicolored patterns across the rich carpet.

"Mm-hm," Gwen murmured, sprawled carelessly across the floor.

Julietta said nothing, merely smiled lazily.

"What about you, Angie?"

Angela rolled onto her stomach, propped her chin up in her hands and kicked her legs against the floor. "It's home."

****************************

Somewhere beyond the realm of the living, the Lady mother of a prince was beaming at her hands.

**Soooo? What do you think? Too sappy? REVIEW!**


	22. Archery

**You guys are awesome, so awesome I was able to pump out this next chapter. Note to all of you who actually read my notes, there's mostly just character development for the next few chapters and not a lot of action. But read it all anyway!**

Chapter 21

Archery

"_I like this story!"_

"_Me too!"_

"_Me three!"_

"_Me four!"_

"_And five, six, seven, eight! Be quiet and listen to the story!"_

Gwen faced Master Splinter in a pale lavender skirt with a separate lace up bodice, legs shoulder length apart. She kept herself relaxed and focused, paying close attention to the way the rat's body was positioned so that she could get a good idea of where he was going to move.

Then, all at once, she was blocking a powerful blow from her right, left, left again, and to her stomach. She managed to dodge them all, and even tried to deliver a blow of her own to his legs.

"Watch it, Gwen!"

Too late – the master had whipped her legs out from beneath her with his tail. She landed flat on her back, the air escaping from her chest in one solid rush.

Before she could get to her feet or, indeed, even move at all, his hand whisked down and gently tapped her forehead.

"You are beaten, Miss Gwen."

A wry smile stretched out across her face. "Only when I'm dead, Master."

Her teacher chuckled softly and helped her to her feet. "You are becoming quite a formidable opponent, my dear. In another few years you'll be ready to begin sparring with my sons."

Pride of all of her hard work spread through her and made her aches insignificant. She had been training hard for the past five months; though she didn't like fighting, the idea of being able to defend herself was extremely attractive.

She wondered if she would ever be able to fight half as well as the boys did with their weapons, or the way Angela with her sabre, Zoey with her fists, and Julietta with her kopis.

**********************************

"I can't believe that you've already been here for a month," Gwen remarked, watching Dancer and Willow trot in lazy circles in the paddock.

"Neither can I," Julietta grunted. "Almost the solstice and I'm still stuck here."

"I thought you liked it here."

The gypsy sighed and climbed up to sit on the fence. "It's not that I don't like living here. I do. Even with Red."

"Why do you keep calling Raph that? It just makes him mad, are you just trying to make him angry enough to throw you out?"

"When he calls me by my name, then I'll call him by his name. And it isn't him that's keeping me here, it's Splinter."

"So why are you angry at Raph? Why not Master Splinter?"

A sarcastic smile spread on the feisty young woman's face. "I tried. It's easier to stay mad at Red."

"You know, it's almost his birthday."

"Whose?"

"Raphael's. July 23. Donny told me – maybe you could just try to make peace? Just for one day."

"I'll think about it. So, did Donnie name one of the horses?"

"Mm-hm, the grey colt. He named him Nimbus."

"What kind of name is Nimbus?"

"It's another name for a storm cloud."

"Then why didn't he name the horse Storm?"

"Because he named him Nimbus."

"Whatever. Okay, try it now."

Biting her lip, she took several deep breaths and called out to the slender brown filly.

"Willow? Here girl. Come here, pretty one."

Without any hesitation at all, Willow turned her attention from the game of tag she was playing with Dancer and went to her human.

Julietta grinned at the look of elation on her pupil's face. "She's your horse now and nothin'll ever change that."

"Spell 'Dancer'."

The gypsy frowned in thought. "Dancer. Dance-er. D-A-N…umm…C? E-R."

The black filly trotted to her and put a dainty black nose into dark hair.

"Correct!"

**********************************

"She really came to you?"

"Yup!"

Gwen carefully measured out the granite dust into a beaker as Donny poked the fire impatiently.

Why did the fireplace never cooperate when he needed it to?

"We should make something that'll heat things without fire," the girl commented. "That way we don't have to worry about keeping the wood supply stocked all the time."

"How would we do that?" he asked, staring at the embers, mind already running through various designs.

"Rubbing your hands together makes heat, doesn't it? Maybe we could use that method?"

"Hmmm…" that was an interesting idea. "Friction based heat…"

Together, they fashioned several glass disks. Even as Donnie turned his attention to hammering out a tube of iron, Gwen tested each of the glasses for clarity, strength and the way it magnified images.

A pleasant silence reigned throughout their work until a bit of glittering sand entered the room and offered a pitcher of ice water and cups.

"Oh, perfect!" Gwen sighed, taking both the silver jug and two cups. "Want some Donny?"

"Yes please," he said meaningfully as he mopped his sweaty forehead with an oily rag.

"Don't use that!" she scolded. "Use a handkerchief."

Donny smirked at her. "Do you have one?"

She pouted at him adorably and replaced the rag with the cup. "Here Mr. Know-it-all."

"Don't be mad."

Her hazel eyes glared at him playfully over the edge of her cup.

As they drank down the deliciously cold water, he noticed her slight nervousness – the slight twitch of her fingers, the way she kept brushing at her bangs, the way she bit her lower lip.

"What's wrong, Gwen?"

She was silent, turning her cup slowly in her hands.

"Gwennie?"

"Do you think I'll ever get to use a weapon like you, Donny?" she asked at last, raising her gaze to meet his.

"What?"

"I mean, I know I'm not nearly ready right now. I can barely see what my opponent is doing and most times I can't do anything about it in time. I'm not like Angie or Julie –"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there, Gwen. First of all, the other girls have been learning to fight for years. Angela learned from her uncle when she was eight, Zoey's been learning acrobatics since she could walk, and Julietta is, well, Julietta. I think those gypsies are always ready to fight –" he thought of Raph. "And we've been learning to fight since we were kids, you can't compare yourself to us. Besides, I'm really not that good myself. But I use my brains to come out on top – and you're the same as me I think. You're smarter than anyone else I've ever met."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Really? And don't you dare try to tease or patronize me, Donatello Hamato!"

He blinked. Why was it this girl never understood just how incredible she was? "Of course! You're smart, strong, and beautiful. You –"

Wait. Had he just said beautiful?

"So anyway," he said loudly, hoping to erase his mistake. "You shouldn't keep putting yourself down all the time!"

"What kind of weapon do you think I'll get?" If Gwen had noticed his slip, she was mercifully ignoring it. Now she was corking the bottles and containers, and setting paperweights on loose bits of parchment. Once everything was secure she opened the windows.

Donny sighed as the cooler air from outside slid over his skin. "Well, I'm probably the worst fighter and I got a bo – OUCH!"

Gwen brandished the rag she had whipped him with, "If I'm not allowed to knock myself, then neither are you!"

Rubbing his stinging arm, he grimaced. "If I were to give you a weapon, I'd suggest that you take up archery or maybe you could specialize in towel whipping."

"Watch it, Mister! I have good aim!"

"Definitely archery then."

"Archery? As in arrows and a bow? Why?"

"Because you have a good eye. You probably have a better aim than Raph and he can hit just about anything with those sais of his."

"Really? Do you think Master Splinter would mind if I learned?"

"Well, Master Splinter was never the greatest at archery, not that he isn't a great fighter without it, none of us really are. But I think Angela can shoot pretty well, you should ask her."

********************************

Gwen hummed as she wandered through the castle. Even though she had been living here for seven months, she had yet to see all of the rooms. There was one in particular that she wanted to find – the room with the instruments and the grand piano.

She had learned to play when she was very young and had lived in the city. She wanted to see if she could still play.

So through the halls she went, opening and closing the doors – and was it her imagination or were less doors locked now? – searching for the room.

Art room, weapons room, sitting room, sitting room, bedroom, bedroom, bedroom, bedroom…

Music room!

This room was circular – for acoustic purposes she supposed – and the walls were lined with music stands and shelves stuffed with all kinds of musical instruments and music books. And in the middle of it all was the huge majestic grand piano, made of polished black wood.

Ecstatic, she rushed over to open the curtains and was treated to a flash of late afternoon sun and beautiful view of the western gardens.

A book of music was waiting for her on the seat – simple songs for one who hadn't played in a while.

"Thank you," she said courteously to the air at large.

And soon the room was filled with smooth musical notes as her fingers danced over the ivory keys.

************************************

Several days later, Gwen was heading upstairs to take a bath after morning training, when Angie called her over.

"I understand that you're interested in archery."

"Yes…" she made a mental note to tell Mikey where Donny hid his chocolate. She was fully capable of asking for help on her own.

Whoa, that was a bit of an irony.

"Would you like a lesson?"

"Sure!"

Angela led her back into the training room, and out into a courtyard where they had practiced during the days when it had not been so agonizingly hot. At the far side of the courtyard, several targets had been set up and on their side were buckets full of bows and arrows.

"Okay, first of all," her blond teacher said, pawing through the bows. "Archery is not just point and shoot. It is about strength, accuracy and the ability to understand your surroundings."

She nodded.

"First, I want you to choose which bow you want."

Gwen bent and looked through the different wooden weapons. She took several out and tested the way they felt in her hand, setting aside the better feeling ones. Then she pulled on the candidate's strings, imagining how it would be if there was an arrow tucked into the string.

That one wasn't strong enough, this one she couldn't even pull the string back, and this one – ouch!

Cut through her finger. And disturbingly enough, it was perfect.

"This one."

"Gwen, just because it cut your finger doesn't mean it's a sign that this-"

"Just try it, Angie."

Angie took it. She ran her hands up and down the wooden arch and plucked at the bowstring. She gave it back and nodded. "Perfect. How did you know?"

She looked helplessly at the bow in her hand. "It just felt the best. The friendliest."

"Whatever works. Now." The blonde knelt beside the buckets filled with arrows. "Arrows are obviously just important as the bow. There are three important concepts of archery – power, precision, and distance – and each arrow type is different. Even individual arrows are very different in how they fly. To be an archer, you need to be able to correctly guess how an arrow will work and compensate. To be a master archer, you need to be able to work with how an arrow, understanding its flaws and strengths, and always hit your mark."

A light laugh escaped her. "Is that all?"

Angie smiled. "Try and shoot."

Gwen took a deep breath, raised the bow up and arranged the arrow into what felt like the correct position. Aiming carefully, she released.

And yelped as the bolt snapped crazily, whipping against her arm, and shooting off past the target to hit the wall behind it with a loud crack.

"Oh my! Gwen, are you alright?"

"I'm alright, just a little welt."

The two girls looked at the sharp red mark on Gwen's arm and the soft trickle of blood making its way down her arm.

"That is not 'just a little welt."

"What did I do wrong?"

Angela took her bow and assumed position. "Your shoulders were a little hiked up, your anchor was too far back, and the arrow was off."

"Anything else?" she asked, mopping off her blood with her skirt.

"You aren't going to believe this, but that was really good. Here, let me show you."

Gwen sighed and drew another arrow. This time Angela came up behind her and pushed her shoulders down, rearranged her hold on the arrow, and set the hand spotting the arrow to her mouth. When she was in proper form, Angie stepped away.

"Now aim."

The would-be-archeress lined up her arrow.

"Fire."

The dart sped through the air and hit the ring that outlined the main bull's-eye circle.

"You, my friend, are a natural. The ninth ring on your second try and your first real try."

*****************************

That night she was exhausted.

After an hour and half training session with Master Splinter and the others, the hour long archery lesson from Angela, an hour of learning to saddle a horse and teaching Willow to accept a bit with Julietta, a quick lunch and bath, and the rest of the afternoon had been spent assembling the newest invention with Donny. It had been extremely delicate work and required extensive use of a magnifying glass. They had finally finished it and dubbed it the microscope in time for dinner.

Tonight the meal consisted of oysters basted in wine, cod fillet seasoned with sage, vichy carrots, and warm apple tarts topped with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Gwen stared blearily at it all, far too exhausted to do much but insert her fork into her mouth, chew and swallow.

During their after dinner talks and time together she wasn't able to do much, choosing to sit quietly in an armchair and watch Donny make changes to their microscope design on the coffee table.

"Are you sure you're alright, Gwennie?" Donny asked, turning to look at her.

She smiled even as she laid her head on the arm of her chair. "Yeah. I'm just tired."

Mikey, Zoey, Raph, and Julietta were playing a card game on the floor that involved a lot of slapping and movement. Leo and Angie were engaged in a game of chess and Master Splinter was staring contemplatively into the fire.

Gwen watched all of this peacefully even when Raph and Julietta began arguing over who had won the last hand. The two stood up, looking ready to start punching, but stopped abruptly when Master Splinter intervened.

Serenity washing over her, she didn't even realize she was falling asleep…

**************************

"Hey, Gwen, what do you think about this?" Donatello eyed his blueprint, searching for flaws or oversights before he handed it behind him.

No answer.

"Gwen?" he turned.

His best friend was curled up in the chair fast asleep.

He sighed and pulled himself to his feet. Grabbing a soft wool blanket from the back of one of the couches, he spread it over the unresponsive girl. He tucked it lightly around her, and paused for a moment.

Donny had been out of the world for a long time, but he did know a beautiful girl when she was in front of him. And there were four extremely attractive young women living with them. Angela had the elegance and poise of an icicle but the longer she stayed there, the more she thawed and relaxed. Zoey was bright and bouncy and had the cuteness of a teddy bear. Julietta was like a tiger brought in from the jungle, beautiful and wild.

He turned back to his plans but his eyes kept wandering back over his shoulder to her calm face.

Gwen was gentle and sweet, with soft freckles. Her lashes weren't as long as Julietta's but they were still impressive.

"Hey, Donny! Stop staring at Gwen!" Zoey's voice cut through his observations.

"Wow, Genius Boy," Julietta remarked smirking. "I never would have pegged you for taking advantage of sleeping young girls."

Flushing darkly, he whipped his head around to glare darkly at her. The teasing light in her eyes gleamed at him brightly.

He smiled back her. "Yeah, very funny, Julie."

She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the game, but not before tossing something else over her shoulder, "Don't let her sleep there all night. She'll have a nasty crick in her neck tomorrow if she sleeps there for much longer."

"She is right my son, you should wake her and take her to her room for the night."

Whoa! When had Master Splinter appeared beside him?

"Alright, Sensei."

************************

Gwen moaned as someone shook her shoulder. "G'way… M'tired."

"Gwen? Wake up, you need to go to your own bedroom."

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed. "I don't wanna!"

The voice, which she now recognized as Donny, sighed. "Get up, Gwen."

"Nu-uh."

Hands descended on her shoulders and dragged her to an upright position. Shaking ensued.

Her eyes snapped open and she glared into Donny's light brown eyes. "Stop that!"

"Only if you get up."

One look at his expression and she knew that he wasn't going to let this go. "Do I have to?"

"Yeah. You'll be sore tomorrow if you don't. C'mon, I'll walk you to your room."

Gwen pouted but stood up shakily and allowed him to lead her out of the room.

"Good night, Gwennie!"

"'Night."

"See you tomorrow."

"Good night everyone," she called.

Together they went up the spiral staircase to the third floor and down hallway, Donny walking straight and Gwen slightly weaving with exhaustion. She ended up leaning against him sleepily until they reached her room.

"Thanks, Donny," she said, going from leaning on him to leaning on her door. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night Gwen."

Gwen fell asleep smiling.

***************************************

Mary Brass smiled at the sleeping girl. "He is quite a nice boy, isn't he? And you are doing splendidly."

**Sooooo... what do you think?**


	23. Books and Art

**Thank you so much! 10 Reviews for one chapter! For that, here is the next chapter early!!!!**

**I'm not quite sure if this came out right but I couldn't get it any better.**

Chapter 23

Books and Art

"_That's soooo romantic!" squealed one of the girls._

"_This story is getting so sappy!" complained one of the boys._

"_That's because it's a love story!"_

"_Aren't all stories supposed to have some action?"_

"_Just a little longer, kiddo."_

Zoey hummed as she splashed water along her bare arms. It was the middle of August and unbearably hot – so hot that Angela had abandoned petticoats all together and wore light cotton shifts that barely reached down to her ankles. Gwen went for similar clothes, though her gowns were cut so that they hung about halfway down her shins. Julietta had, once again scandalized Angela by trading her already slick and rather low cut gown for blouses that had no sleeves and barely any shoulders, skirts that were long stretches of cloth tied across her hips slantwise – sarongs, she called them – and leggings that barely covered her thighs.

Zoey herself preferred simple one piece dresses that terminated at her knees and had no sleeves. She was wearing a similar piece right now, a plain pale yellow smock that kept her remarkably cool, washing off after a session of teaching Rosie and Titan to accept weight on their backs. It had been a rather boring lesson, though watching Demonio try to buck Julietta off every time she put her weight on him had been very funny. But other than that, it had been very uneventful. On top of that, lying on top of hot horseflesh had made her even hotter and rather sticky.

Despite the boredom that she had to endure, it was getting to be worth it. Julietta had said that the horses were progressing very well and would soon be ready to ride. What was even better was the fact that she was insisting that they ride the horses bareback first. It was supposed to be better for them as riders if they got the hang of riding a horse without reins or stirrups – at least that was what the gypsy said.

Zoey couldn't wait to ride a horse barebacked. She had always wanted to learn to ride but there had never been time to learn – there was always something else to do in a troupe. But now… now she had all the time in the world.

Now that her arms were now clean, the former acrobat sloshed further into the ceremonial fountain and sat down, ducking her head fully beneath the water. After a long moment, she erupted from the water and threw her sopping hair out of her face.

Mmmm… that felt so good.

"Hey Zoey!"

She turned out towards the meadow hills that separated the gardens from the stables.

Mikey was standing on top of one of the hills waving wildly. "Come on! Join us!"

Immediately she went charging towards him, hiking at a breakneck pace up the hill. At the steepest part, she had to go on all fours to keep her balance. Reaching the top of the hill, she stood upright and looked around.

It turned out that Mikey, Gwen, Donny, and even Julietta, Angela and Leo were lying on the opposite side of the side of the hill. Actually, Gwen, Mikey, and Julietta were the ones sprawled in the cool grass, staring up at the clouds, and Donny, Angela and Leo were sitting among them. All of them were looking up at the soft clouds scuttling across the bright blue sky.

"What are you guys doing?"

"Baking."

"People can't bake, Julietta," Gwen said sleepily, not bothering to open her eyes as she curled up in the grass besides Donny.

"Tell that to the witch who travelled with my caravan. Every winter she would bake these weird pies. It turned out she used dead bodies or killed passersby. Finally, one of the towns we passed through hung her because she killed and baked the mayor's baby."

"Really?" Leo looked at her in disbelief from where he was seated cross legged a few feet away.

"On my honor."

"Did you ever taste one of the pies?" Zoey asked, taking a spot on the grass beside Mikey.

"Once, but it tasted weird." In spite of the disturbing things she was revealing, the young gypsy did not so much as twitch from where she was sprawled carelessly in the grass.

"Doesn't that make you a cannibal?" Angela asked, eyeing her in alarm. Even sitting in the grass she was proper, her legs folded neatly beside her.

Donny rested his chin on his fist in thought. "Does it count if you don't know what you're eating?"

"You didn't know what you were eating, did you?" Zoey was fascinated.

"Of course not."

"What did it taste like?"

"Zoey! That's a completely inappropriate question!"

"Lighten up Angie. It tasted a little like venison."

"What's venison?"

"Deer."

"People eat deer?"

"Of course."

Zoey lay back in the grass and stared up at the sky. "Where's Raph?"

Julietta snorted. "Off brooding somewhere."

"Did you guys get into a fight, _again_?" Leo groaned, turning his back to the sun.

"Yup," she answered, sounding completely unconcerned.

Zoey hid a giggle – Julie and Raph got into fights every day, their standing record was six fights in one day. It was very cool to watch; they stood on opposite sides of the room and bellowed at each other until one shut the other up with a clever comeback. This morning's conflict had shaken the floor above them – and it had been about which block was better suited to counter a dragon strike.

"You really need to step baiting him, Julietta," Angie said in her best motherly tone.

"He needs to stop being so baitable."

"I don't think that's a word," Gwen remarked.

"It isn't," Donny confirmed.

"Who cares?"

"What do you think it would be like to ride one?"

That abruptly brought the conversation to a halt.

"Ride what, Z?" Mikey asked.

"A cloud," she pointed at an especially fluffy one sliding over the sky to the west of them.

"I don't think it's possible to ride a cloud, Zoey."

"Use your imagination, Gwennie!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"You don't care when Donny does it!"

"Donny's different!"

"Why?"

Gwen sat up, opened her mouth – no words came out. Finally, "He just is! He came up with the name, so only he can call me that."

She flopped back onto the grass, her normally fair cheeks pink.

"I think it would be like swimming," Angela said. "I read somewhere that clouds are actually just water."

"Maybe like giant pillows," Mikey suggested enthusiastically.

"Wonder what it would be like on a storm cloud," Julietta muttered.

"Wouldn't it be weird to ride something that keeps making a lot of noise under you?" Gwen asked.

Julietta laughed out loud.

"What?"

"Nothing," she gasped, even as she rolled in the grass, howling. "I just have a very dirty mind. Trust me, you don't want to be thinking what I'm thinking."

There didn't seem to be anything to say to this so they went on cloud watching.

"It must be very peaceful up there," Leo said at last.

"Yeah…"

"Look a bunny!" Zoey cried, pointing at an interesting cloud formation.

"That does not look like a bunny," Donny said, cocking his head.

Gwen squinted up at it. "Looks a bit like a deer. See? If those were its legs…"

"I think it looks like a cow…" Angela said, craning her neck up.

"Are you kidding? That's definitely a bunny!" Mikey objected loudly.

"Stop trying to win brownie points," Julietta ordered lazily. "Anyone can see that that is a deer, horse, or cow. I think it's a horse, personally."

The rest of the afternoon was spent arguing over the shapes of the clouds.

**************************************

The sun had already begun to sink by the time they all went inside, encountering Raph sitting on the front steps. He and Julietta exchanged evil looks.

Then it was to down the hall, past the locked main hall, into the dining room.

Dinner was a peaceful affair, filled with continued talk about what it would be like to ride a cloud – Raph was also partial to riding a storm cloud – and then spinning off to discuss where they would go if they could use a cloud as transportation.

Mikey was unusually quiet throughout the meal and disappeared right after dinner. He reappeared in the sitting room with a pad of paper and sat to the side.

Completely taken aback – and slightly frightened by this – Zoey approached him.

"Mikey? What are you doing?"

Her friend nearly leapt a foot in the air. Seeing who it was, he immediately tried to hide the notebook. "Nothing!"

Bad move.

This only intensified Zoey's lively, and rather unhealthy, curiosity and soon the two were wrestling over it. As this was such a common occurrence, no one interfered.

She yanked firmly, only to be nearly thrown off when he secured it to his chest with one arm. "Let me see!"

"No!"

"Give it!"

"Nuh-uh!"

Getting desperate, she shoved her hand beneath his arm and tickled.

Voila!

He released the coveted papers and squirmed away.

"What's the big secret?" she wondered aloud, opening the book.

The pages were covered in slightly messy handwriting and bad drawings. "The Duck Doctor?"

Mikey snatched at it, but she quickly dodged behind Raph who was polishing his sais.

They were stories. Short children's' stories. Funny ones, too.

She giggled at one and turned to read another.

Abruptly the note pad was whipped from her hands. Mikey scowled darkly at her and stormed out of the room.

This was utterly unheard of and quickly earned the attention of everyone in the room. Zoey ignored the stares as she followed him out.

She found him under the stairs. Bending over, she peeked into the darkness.

"Mikey? What's wrong? Are you mad at me?"

"You better not tell anyone."

She knelt down and crawled to join him; down here everything was shadows. "Tell anyone about what?"

He flapped the book at her. "No one's supposed to read them. They're confide- they're private!"

"Why? They're really funny."

The big shadow that was Mikey went very still. "Y-you think so?"

"Uh-huh. Can I see them?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "You laughed at them."

"Because they're funny. The duck trying to explain to the caterpillar…" she dissolved into laughter.

"You weren't laughing at the drawings, were you? I can't draw."

"Nah, even though they are really bad. How come you don't put them in a book? A real one?"

The note pad flopped to the floor and he rested his shin on his fist. "Real stories for little kids have lots a pictures. No one in the rest of the castle can even draw a straight line, 'cept Donny and Gwen, but they only draw boring stuff."

She grinned and inched closer to him. "I can draw pretty good. If you let me read your stories, I'll draw pictures for them."

He beamed at her. "Okay!"

"Good! Now let's get out of here before the spiders get in my hair."

************************************

Mikey was sprawled on his stomach beside Zoey in the art room, him writing, she drawing.

It had been about a week since they had made their deal and three days since Zoey had insisted on using the art room. The look on her face when she had walked in had been priceless – her big green eyes got even bigger, her pink cheeks brighter, and her mouth fell open.

And then she had laughed outright, hopping up and down and clapping her hands like a little girl.

His quill paused in its careful scratching as he straightened up a bit to look at her drawing.

"Nu-uh!" she said sharply, moving her body to block her sketch. "Not finished yet!"

Zoey hated it when anyone tried to peek at what she was drawing.

"Okay, okay." He continued carefully rewriting one of his stories onto a fresh sheet of paper.

Making a book was a very careful process: Mikey had to rewrite each story, leaving enough space on each page for Zoey to include her drawings. Once he was finished with a sheet, it was set aside for the ink to dry, and then Zoey illustrated. When all of the stories were finally done, they would bind all the pages together in thick leather binding and put it in the library.

So far, they had finished two stories and every drawing she had done for them was perfect and funny.

"Okay!" she sang, holding up the finished work.

He took one look and laughed at the picture of the frogs ballroom dancing. "That's really good! How come you can draw so good and I can't?"

"How come you're a turtle and I'm not?"

Mikey's heart stuttered nervously. Master Splinter had strictly forbidden them to tell any of the girls about the spell – telling them could jeopardize their quest to become human again. But the girls weren't stupid and knew perfectly well that giant turtles and rats that walked, talked, meditated, invented stuff, yelled the roof down, wrote kids' stories and lived in a castle fit for a king were something to question and wonder about. Already the rest of his brothers had reported questions the girls had asked about their appearance.

And now Zoey was asking.

"Just… that's how it is."

"Exactly."

He pouted slightly at how she had turned his complaint on itself.

But the longer he was with her, the more he was coming to resent his turtle body – if he was human he could really…

Really what?

He didn't have an answer for that and decided to leave that thought alone.

"Hey Mikey!"

Turning, he saw the picture she was offering him.

It was a rough sketch of the two of them, drawn as though the person seeing them was several feet above their heads, offering a V for victory sign. He couldn't help what the picture would've looked like if he had been human.

"It's us! What do you think?"

"It's really good."

"Take it."

"What?"

"I made it for you, take it!"

He took it in surprise. Zoey was really a very incredible artist. Artist, acrobat and a good sense of humor.

"Thanks, Z."

"Why Z? I thought my nickname was Zoe."

"Z is my nickname for you. I think it sounds cool."

She seemed to ponder this for a minute before grinning brightly. "I like it. And no one but you can call me that!"

They traded smiles.

****************************************

Mary Sweet giggled and danced around the dream garden in triumph. "It's working!"

**Good? Bad? Review!**


	24. Brutal and Gentle

**Yeah! Chapter 23! In which Raph is a bastard and then redeems himself! Enjoy!!**

Chapter 23

Brutal and Gentle

"_Get to the action already!" wailed one of the smaller boys._

"_Shut up!"_

It was a bright, beautiful day. The heat of summer was beginning to dissipate with the arrival of autumnal breezes. White fluffy clouds slid across the deep blue sky, birds sang sweetly, the horses dozed contentedly in their paddock…

Everything was so peaceful…

So…

"_YOU IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, RED?!"_

Chaotic.

"_THAT WASN'T MY FAULT!"_

"_THEN WHOSE WAS IT?!"_

The other seven inhabitants of the castle sighed. The morning had started off well – Raph and Julietta had spoken their daily two words to each other: "S'up?" and "Hey", they had behaved when they sparred, Julietta having taken being pinned by the turtle with incredible grace (she huffed darkly, jerked a stiff bow, and stalked off the mat) and Raph not rubbing it in (he only smirked obnoxiously)…

It had all been going so smoothly.

Until Raph's belt mysteriously fell down and one of his sais sank into the wood floor directly beside Julietta's bare foot.

Of course the fierce gypsy had gotten angry and Raph had gotten angry too, but it all could have been salvaged except that when Raph accidentally managed to knock the weapons' rack over.

Still, the day could have gone well…

But Julietta's kopis blades were both nicked in the following chaos.

And then, as they say, it was on.

"_I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN! YOU CAN HAVE NEW ONES!"_

"_THEY WERE MINE! I EARNED THEM – YOU CAN'T JUST REPLACE THEM! ARE YOU REALLY SUCH A PAMPERED LITTLE PRINCE THAT YOU THINK YOU CAN BUY ME OFF?!"_

"_**I'M**__ PAMPERED! YOU WEREN'T COMPLAINING ABOUT THIS PAMPERING WHEN YOU GOT TO KEEP YOUR HORSES!"_

"_AND I'M TAKING THEM WITH ME WHEN I LEAVE!"_

They continued on this vein for a moment until…

*************************************

Raph had passed the point of seeing red – this girl just wouldn't stop harassing him!

"_AND WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK YOUR FAMILY WANTS YOU?! MAYBE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE – __**BUT THEY THREW YOU IN HERE! THEY DIDN'T CARE ABOUT YOU!"**_

Instantly, he knew he had gone too far.

Julietta stood before him, pale beneath her dark skin, mouth slightly open, eyes wide and a bit too bright.

"I'm so-"

_Slap_

_Thump_

Almost before he had time to register his stinging cheek, a powerful uppercut smashed into his stomach. Even with his carapace the air was brutally shoved out of his lungs. He glanced up, panting, to see a red skirt whip out of the doorway.

Leaving him alone with his ticked off brothers, the three other guests, and, worst of all, his father.

"What the hell is your problem?" Angela asked in a deadly calm voice.

"How could you even think of saying anything like that to her?" Leo demanded.

"Why did you have to say that?" Donny snapped.

"What were you thinking?" Gwen scolded.

"That was way brutal, even for you, Raph," Mikey said quietly.

"I can't believe you said that!" Zoey whispered.

Raph could only watch them as they closed in around him, disapproving and angry.

"-complete disregard for others-"

"-control your temper-"

"-better apologize-"

"Enough."

At Master Splinter's words, silence fell like the executioner's axe.

"None of you are to go after Miss Julietta. Cancel your normal activities with her. If she seeks you out, do not press what has happened. If she wishes to speak with you then do what you will. Now please leave us; Raphael and I must talk."

The others filed out of the room, shooting dark looks at Raph as they went.

"My son…"

Raph turned to face his father, ready for a long lecture.

Master Splinter looked up at him quietly, dark eyes tired. "I am very disappointed in you, Raphael. I would not have believed that you were capable of anything like this.

"You know that she is very sensitive about her caravan's betrayal."

Raph could only stand there and hang his head in shame. He had never felt lower in his life.

"You will apologize to her tonight before dinner."

"Yes, Sensei."

******************************

Julietta charged out of the front door of the castle – jaw clenched so tightly that she was getting a headache. She sprinted down the gravel road that led to the great iron gate that held her in.

Screw the rules – she was leaving now. She wasn't staying here any longer than she had to.

She came upon the gateway and wrapped her fingers around the bars and began climbing up the fence. All at once, the metal began bucking beneath her fingers, throwing her off.

Snarling, she leapt to her feet and tried again.

Her butt hit the ground again.

Ready to start screaming, the gypsy got to her feet and turned to the stone wall. Which happened to be covered with rose vines. Thorny rose vines.

She took one look.

And grabbed one barehanded and climbed up.

It was agony pulling herself up, but she had no intention of staying here – her family did want her, her grandmother had fought for her and that was all that really mattered. Her hands and feet were now bleeding terribly. She reached the top of the wall and was about to throw her leg over to straddle the stone when the vines and the wall all convulsed and threw her back over.

Julietta stared up at the wall, threw her head back and screeched.

"_Why are you doing this to me?"_

***************************

She sat on the hill they used for cloudgazing, knees pulled up to her chest, scratched arms wrapped around her bleeding legs. Her whole body ached, but she cared nothing for any of it. She wanted to go home… wherever home happened to be at this point – but she was locked in.

The words she had given to Red two months ago came back to her. "Gypsies don't do well inside closed walls."

Shadows had crept up on her as black storm clouds crowded through the sky, blocking out the sun.

The thunder came.

The lightening came.

The rain came.

The wind came.

Through it all, Julietta refused to move, even as she was soaked and chilled straight through by the September wind.

Her head tipped back and she stared up at the sky, watching the forked lightening as it flashed across the sky. Gypsies always welcomed the first storm of autumn with a special ceremony. Every eligible young woman danced for an hour or so, trading off until the tempest passed. But Julietta had no wish to do anything as happy and carefree as dancing, she wanted to be with her grandmother, cooking stew and talking about the coming harvest and winter.

A particularly magnificent bit of lightening cut the sky in two with a resounding crash. As the thunder died away, she sat up straighter; what was that?

For the first time in several hours, she got to her feet and looked around. Had that been a wolf cry?

Every night she dreamt of the black wolf, they had passed through the forest, crossed wide plains that seemed to stretch forever, encountered all manners of creatures that wanted to eat them, and each time, the great hunter kept close to her side, protecting her.

And… there he was!

Her wolf companion was standing on the steps of the castle, calling to her mournfully.

But… hadn't they been here before? She couldn't remember.

He yowled.

"All right, all right, I'm coming!" she croaked. When had her voice grown hoarse?

Her body switched from being dreadfully cold to aching horribly to being completely numb even as she struggled through the wind and rain towards the canine.

Thunder cracked overhead, worsening her headache.

Julietta reached the granite steps and tried to sit down, but the wolf growled and got in her way every time. When she tried to swipe him out of the way, dizziness nearly knocked her from her feet. He bounded the several steps and began scratching at the castle door.

"What? Is the storm bothering you?" she asked teasingly, not even noticing the slur in her words.

The creature gave her the look that she took to be his scowl.

"I don't want to go in there. Can't you lead me to my caravan?"

He rolled his strange amber eyes and nudged the door expectantly.

"No. Let's go somewhere else." She tried to go back, but the wolf was immediately in front of her, showing a vicious line of white fangs.

The young woman blinked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

He walked around her and sat by the giant front doors.

Scowling darkly, she trudged over. "Okay. But we're leaving first thing in the morning."

It took all of her strength to pull open the heavy door, hold it for her four-legged friend and slip in herself.

It was deliciously warm in here and she felt instantly sleepy. Blinking back her drowsiness, she followed her wolf guide through a side door she had never noticed before that opened into a very small sitting room. The fire place instantly sprang to life when they entered, revealing a couch pulled up right beside the hearth.

The wolf did not protest as she lay down on the sofa and curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, apparently intent on staying the night.

But they weren't staying here for much longer, she promised herself wearily. I'm just going to take a quick nap… and then… we'll leave…

She couldn't quite remember why they had to leave, the world was sliding in and out of focus and before she could even begin to process what she was seeing she had passed out.

*******************************

It was after dinner and Julietta still hadn't shown up. Raph was worried – not that he would ever admit that to anyone. Not that anyone was really talking to him right now anyway.

The silence after dinner was so oppressive that he left the family room early and went to Julietta's room. He didn't care if she hated him, she wasn't going to hide away from them all and mope. That girl was going to sit in the family room with them and make her snide comments and get him angry like always.

But her room was empty.

"Hey, everybody!"

Flames whipped into life around him, ready for orders.

"Do you know where the girl is?"

_Yes._

"Where is she?"

_The entrance sitting room._

He hurried out of the bedroom and went downstairs.

***********************************

Fire crackled merrily behind the grate in the little parlor as he entered cautiously.

"Hello? Girl, you in here?"

No answer.

But the fire wouldn't be burning if there was no one in here. He looked around and saw the couch facing the fireplace, away from him.

Raph marched over to the futon and looked over the back. And groaned.

It was her alright. Soaking wet, shivering, and flushed.

"Damn it, you were out in the storm?"

She was lying curled up, her skirt and hair still dripping. Eyes closed, she was muttering wildly under her breath.

He uneasily put a hand to her forehead and hissed. She was burning up.

"You little idiot!"

Still cursing her, the turtle ran around the couch and knelt down. He carefully shook her, wincing at the way her head lolled listlessly. "Hey, girl? Can you hear me?"

She continued mumbling deliriously.

"Girl!"

Nothing.

"Julietta?"

She stopped murmuring.

Was that a good sign?

"Julietta, can you hear me?"

She moaned.

"Okay," he whipped his head around wildly.

His eyes fell upon the fire. "Find me a blanket. Ten minutes ago. And find Master Splinter!"

The command was barely finished when a soft woolen blanket fell over his head. Tearing it from himself, he threw it over the trembling girl, wrapped her in it, and lifted her.

He could feel her fever through his carapace. That could not be good.

"Where'ee goin'…?"

She was awake. Sort of – her eyes were hazy and unfocused. He doubted she even knew who he was. Considering this morning's events, that had to be a good thing.

"To your room."

She tried to look around her. "Where's wolf…?"

"Wolf? What wolf?"

He was losing her; her words were slurring more and more with each moment.

"M'wolf. He's nice."

"Stay awake, girl. What's he look like?"

"Black. A'black."

Her eyes were closing.

"Julietta! Stay awake!"

The use of her name managed to catch her attention.

Raph was taking the grand staircase four steps at a time.

"Are you my wolf?"

He nearly tripped. "What?"

"My wolf… are you?"

"I …don't think so."

They had finally reached the spiral staircase. Raph sprinted up, around and around.

"Oh… I'm sleepy…" Her head fell back.

He jostled her desperately. "Hey, c'mon! Don't fall asleep on me!"

Too late.

"Girl? Julietta! Julietta, wake up!"

There was her room at last. He threw up the door, and turned to the fireplace. "Get her out of these wet clothes. Now!"

***********************************

She didn't know what was happening. But there was warmth all around her.

It felt so good.

She wondered where she was.

She had only ever been this comfortable at the castle.

But… if she had been comfortable here… why had she wanted to leave?

She… couldn't remember.

But she liked it here.

It was nice.

*********************************

Master Splinter was standing outside of the room when Raph left to let the servants change Julietta in private. "What is happening, Raphael?"

"She – Julietta was out in the storm. Her arms and feet are all torn up. She's sick – really sick. She didn't recognize me and she kept babbling something about wolves."

"Does she have a fever?" his father demanded, reaching for the doorknob.

"They're changing her into dry clothes right now. And yeah, she has a fever."

"Then you will look after her until she is well again. And you two will be sparring partners from now on. Perhaps that will help you two get along."

"I doubt it."

They stood in silence until the door swung open to reveal the flaming servants holding a semiconscious Julietta up by the elbows. Her wet clothes were nowhere to be seen, replaced by a nightgown, and her skin was freshly scrubbed from a bath.

The flames released her, leaving her to sway and collapse. Luckily Raph was close enough to catch her, and he carried her over to her bed.

Even without her soaking garments, she was still shaking as though she was in a blizzard. Her head tossed back and forth as she groaned and whimpered.

"She is delirious," Splinter said flatly. He placed a hand on her forehead and sighed. "Terrible fever."

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"With rest and care, yes. She is a strong young woman. You are excused from all training sessions until she can get along on her own again."

"You're leaving me alone with her?! What am I supposed to do?!"

"_Don't leave me!"_ she suddenly wailed, her entire body arching. _"Come back!"_

"Do not shout," his father ordered sharply. "There is nothing much wrong with her except for her fever. Give her willowbark tea and keep her calm. Good night, Raphael, I will come and see you both in the morning."

And then he was gone. Leaving Raph alone with a hallucinating girl who, when sober and healthy, hated his guts.

********************************

She was trying to run after her caravan – trying to catch up to them – but they had tied her to a tree.

Her grandmother turned and called insults back at her. "Little whore, can't you keep up?"

"_Don't leave me!" _

She tore at the ropes binding her arms.

But something was holding her down.

She opened her eyes.

It was the wolf.

No… not the wolf.

But didn't the wolf have amber eyes?

And this creature had amber eyes too.

It was saying something…

Wait.

Wasn't that.

***********************************

She had finally stopped screaming and thrashing, and was now looking at him with her eyes slightly focused.

"Alright." He carefully eased up his firm grip on her slender arms to keep her from any further. He grimaced at the blood on his hands from her injured arms and hands. "Why didn't you bandage her up?"

There was no answer. He hadn't really been expecting any.

"You're a bastard."

The drunken words caught his attention. She was looking right at him, a dark scowl on her face. An improvement.

"I know." He called out to the servants. "Soup with meadowsweet and bandages. And hurry up."

"Go away."

"Can't," he told her, as a bowl of clean water, a jar of ointment, several rolls of bandages, a teapot with two cups and bowl of soup with a spoon appeared on a table just beside his elbow.

"Gimme your arm, Julietta."

"No." She crossed her arms across her chest, and immediately jerked them away from herself. "Stay away from me, Raul."

A tinge of annoyance shot through him. "I'm Raphael. Not Raul."

He took her left, upper arm carefully, being mindful of the deep scratches.

"_Let me go!"_ She screamed, kicking at him wildly. Not a good idea considering that her legs and feet were as bad as her arms and hands.

Raph bit back hot anger – he was trying to help her, for God's sake! He caught her shoulders and held her down.

"_Wolf!"_ she wailed, twisting. _"Where the hell are you? Grandma! Grandpa!"_

Wait.

Her grandfather was dead; she had told Gwen that at dinner the first week she was here.

He jerked the panicking girl into a sitting position, and stuck his face right up to hers. Her dark eyes were focused all right – straight through him.

Crap, that meant she was still hallucinating. How did Donny say to deal with a hallucinating person? When they had been kids, they had been forced to sit through numerous lessons, covering everything from basic medicine to battle tactics. To no one's surprise he had excelled at that and his younger, more technical brother was the best at medicine.

Ummmm… let's see. Hallucinations were nothing but dreams you had when you were awake, brought on by fever. They could either be quiet delusions or violent ones. Well, this definitely counted as a violent one. To get a person out of it, you had to drug them enough so that they were too tired to even dream. Or you had to talk them out of it.

"Julietta? You're here in the castle. You're not with your caravan, remember?"

She didn't seem to hear him, merely stopping mid flail to look straight at him. "Wolf? What took you so long?"

"Julietta, I'm not Wolf."

"You got bigger. How come you're standing up? You never did that before." She reached out with a bloody hand.

What the hell, she obviously liked this Wolf person – he'd run with it.

"Magic. Listen," he turned and grabbed the bowl of soup. "I need you to eat this, okay?"

"Is that why you can talk?"

"Yeah," he offered the soup. "Can you eat this?"

The soup was heavily laced with meadowsweet and would knock her out. Goodbye hallucinations, hello bandaging.

Julietta looked blankly at the bowl and then up at him.

Raph groaned and spooned out a bit. Feeling completely stupid, he offered her the loaded utensil. "Open your mouth."

She opened.

And closed.

And swallowed.

After about a hundred or so repeats of this, the bowl was finally empty.

"How come I had to eat that?"

"It'll make you feel better."

She cocked her head at him. "Okay."

"And I need you to drink this."

The girl quietly took the cup from him and drank the mug dry.

Even as she tried to hand it back to him, the cup slipped through her fingers and bounced on the bed.

"I feel funny… sleepy."

He shrugged. "Then go to sleep."

"Y'know…" she murmured, lying back. "Like that you look that turtle. Raphael."

"Yeah?" he said distractedly, fumbling with the bandages.

"Mm-hmm… He said m'family din't want me. D'you think he's tellin' the truth?"

"Nah. He just said that to make you mad."

"Think so?" she was looking up at the window thoughtfully.

"Yeah. He's really sorry about it, too." He didn't look at her as he took her arm and began to clean the cuts.

"He should be." She turned back to him. "Am I sick?"

"Yeah."

"Oh… tha…s too…" she trailed off and stared blankly at him bandaging up her arms.

There was a long silence, during which her eyelids drooped lower and lower and finally closed.

********************************

Where am I?

I was… outside. Red and I had a fight and I tried to leave.

I couldn't get out…

There was a storm.

I stayed outside… and the wolf made me come in. But the wolf is only in my dreams… but he talked to me…

No… wolves can't talk…

"Hey… Julietta…"

It's the wolf.

"Wake up."

No… it's Red. Why's he calling me by my name?

Julietta opened her eyes. She was in her room, wrapped up in blankets on her bed, and Red was bent over her.

"What are you doing here?" she croaked. Hearing her scratchy voice, she raised a hand to her throat – it was killing her, her body was killing her, and her head was trying to crush in on itself.

"I've been here all night," he informed her, rubbing his hand across his eyes.

"Why?"

"'Cause you were outside in the storm, got yourself sick and scratched up and delirious and I had to make sure you didn't die." He grabbed a mug from her bedside table, filled it with some tea, and held it out to her. "Drink this."

"Why should I?" she tried to sound mocking, but couldn't quite pull it off with her painful throat. In reality, the young woman wasn't even sure that she had the strength to sit up and drink anything – but there was no way in hell she was telling him that.

"Because it'll keep you from sounding like you swallowed glass."

She turned her head away petulantly. "I don't want it. Now get lost."

"Sorry, but you're stuck with me until y'ain't sick."

"Great. I'm all better. You can leave."

His hand descended upon her forehead. "Yeah right. You're still burning up."

"No I'm not."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "Alright. Sit up. If you can do that, I'll leave you alone."

Julietta glared at him and tried. Her arms moved as though they were made of stone rather than blood and flesh. She pressed them firmly down into the soft mattress to lever herself up – and gasped as sharp jolts of pain shot through her arms and hands. With a light thump she fell back onto the bed, panting.

How the hell had that taken so much energy? She trained with giant turtles and other competent fighters every morning for about an hour and a half, then wrestled with horses for the rest of the morning and wandered around the castle and grounds! How was this possible?

Red smirked a bit. "Oh course you're all better. Don't know why I didn't see it before."

With a ridiculous effort, she managed to drag her right arm out from under the blankets. It was covered with linen bandages.

"Same thing with your feet too."

"I know. I tried to go over the wall."

"You _what?_ Did you want to tear yourself to pieces?"

"No. I wanted to leave." She fixed him with her darkest look. "Don't know why I bothered. My family doesn't want me anyway."

Was it possible for a turtle to deflate?

"Yeah. Look, Julietta. I'm… I'm real sorry about that. I just got mad, okay?"

She searched his face for any trace of a lie. "What's the punchline?"

"No punchline. I really am sorry."

"Forget about it, Raphael. We're just too much alike."

He shifted, turning the cup in his hands. "Truce? Just until ya can leave the room."

"Truce." She tried to lift her hand but only managed to get in a few inches off the bed. "For now."

"For now." He took her hand and gently shook it.

*********************************

Vittoria smirked. "Here we go. That's more like it."

**Well? What do you think? REVIEW!!**


	25. The Forbidden Room

**Here's another one. Enjoy!!**

Chapter 24

The Forbidden Door

"_That was mean of him!"_

"_But he ap-gized."_

"_Is she gonna be okay?"_

"_I was sick like that 'afore and Mommy made me feel all better."_

"_So then what happened?"_

Angela sat in the music room with Zoey, listening to Gwen play the grand piano.

She was truly talented. Angela had never before heard anyone play the instrument so well, not even the man who had tried to teach her had been this good. As for her, the blonde's fingers just hadn't gotten the hang of "dancing upon ivory and ebony to create angelic melodies".

The song tapered to a halt after several runs that had Gwen's fingers flying over the keys and perfect crescendo.

"Beautiful!" she said, clapping.

"Pretty! Gwen, you've gotta be the best piano player I've ever heard!"

"And how many of you heard, brat?"

Three heads whipped around to see a slender figure leaning in the doorway.

"Julietta!"

"Miss me?" the gypsy turned to look at someone further down the hall. "Beat it, Raph! I'm not gonna collapse, alright?"

Angela rushed over to her. "Are you alright? Leo told us that you were very ill, but for two weeks?"

"I got a bad cold."

"Colds do not last for two weeks. Pneumonia does." Gwen looked at the recently recovered up and down.

"Does it matter what I had? I'm better now."

"That's good!" Zoey hugged the taller young woman tightly. "I'm so happy you're better!"

"So am I," Julietta stretched her slender arms to the ceiling. "I finally get to escape that prison and, even better, the insane warden."

"What do you mean?"

"Raph wouldn't let me sit up, let alone stand up. I had to eat soup for two weeks. And he kept drugging me! Every damn cup of tea that turtle gave me put me to sleep!" She tossed her long dark curls over her shoulder. "This morning was the first time he let me get up by myself and eat something solid."

"Why was he the one looking after you?"

"Punishment. For both of us."

"He couldn't have been that bad," Gwen said fairly. "You're better now, aren't you?"

"Did you… you know, forgive him?"

"Zoey! That's none of our business!"

"Chill, Angie. Yeah, Zoe, we made up. Kinda."

"What's 'kinda'?" Angela asked, suspiciously.

"It's kinda none of your business.

"Just my luck that the day I'm released it's raining. You guys were looking after the horses, right?"

Gwen nodded. "Of course, except Demonio and Dancer kept trying to bite us."

Julietta's eyes narrowed, "I'll deal with them later."

"Don't be too hard on them, they're not used to me."

"Whatever. What do we do now?"

"Let's explore!" Zoey grabbed Gwen and Julietta's arms and tugged excitedly. "I've already seen everything on the third, second, and first floors, but I haven't seen the fourth floor! C'mon!"

"You want to spend all day wandering around the castle looking at old rooms?"

"What else is there to do?"

There was no arguing with this and so off they went.

By this time, Angela had almost been in the castle for almost a year and was getting to know it very well. Thus she was quickly able to lead them to a flight of stairs that took them to the fourth floor.

Like the other floors, it had flawlessly polished hardwood floors and carpets expensive enough to buy entire villages. The walls were covered with paintings and tapestries and were interrupted at regular intervals by niches holding sculptures, vases and weird little knickknacks.

Doors were opened and the rooms were examined.

Angela and Julietta were very taken with the armory they found. The walls were filled with every type of sword, spear, and bow imaginable.

"Look at these…" Julietta held two lovely slender swords.

"Aren't those kopis?"

The gypsy shook her head. "Kinda. These are the kopis used by the northern caravans. They're not like mine."

"Hey! Come see this!" Zoey called from across the room.

In the corner was a small forge, obviously for smaller repairs. And carefully wrapped in a stretch of leather on top of the anvil were:

"My blades!" Julietta cried.

And so they were – completely nick-free.

"One of the guys must have fixed them for you," Gwen remarked. "You'd better leave them until tonight."

"Why?"

"Well, one: they were obviously meant as a surprise for you. Two: you don't have your scabbards; you'd be carrying them around all day."

Scowling, the gypsy laid her beloved weapons down and tenderly rewrapped them in the leather.

They left the armory and wandered further down the hall.

Bedroom, sitting room, a room full of painting supplies – Zoey insisted on going in and staring at everything for at least five minutes before they could leave – a room stuffed with weird contraptions.

"This must be where Donny keeps his failed experiments!" Gwen cried, going inside.

They spent fifteen minutes trying not to knock anything over while the brown-haired girl fluttered around happily, examining each device thoroughly. It wasn't until Julietta threatened to leave her behind that she reluctantly left the room.

Bedroom, bedroom, locked, a balcony of the library, sitting room, bathroom, bedroom, bedroom, closet, a room full of flutes, a room with mirrors on all of the walls except the outer one and a wooden bar running across one side of the room, a room with a piano in it – "Don't even think about it!" Julietta warned Gwen – and a room filled with shelves that were, in turn, filled with strange boxes.

"What are these things?" Gwen wondered aloud.

"I think they're music boxes," Angela offered.

Zoey walked through one of the rows of shelves. "What are music boxes?"

The noblewoman walked in and pulled off a box from a shelf. It was covered in green enamel, looked a bit like a turtle's shell, and had a pattern of fish on it. Angie opened it.

Inside was the figure of a strange, brightly colored fish slowly rotating around and around. Best of all was the tinkling music coming from it.

"You see?" Angela said, holding it out to her friends. "There's a little crank in the back that you twist so that the music comes out. It starts playing when you open it. Isn't it beautiful?"

Zoey immediately rushed over and picked out another and opened it. This one had a little rotating butterfly and played a bright, cheerful tune.

The next ten minutes were spent hurrying about and taking music boxes off the shelves and listening to the tunes.

When they were finally bored of the exquisite little wonders, Gwen, Angela and Zoey turned to leave. They realized they were missing one.

"Julie?"

The gypsy was sitting crosslegged on the floor, a black music box in her lap. The box had the pattern of a beautiful red rose on a green stem lined with vicious thorns. Inside was a little figurine in the shape of a girl with a flaring skirt and as she turned, a dark rich melody drifted out.

"Julietta?"

She looked up at them, startled. "What?"

"We're leaving now."

"Oh," she stood up. "Okay. Let me put this away."

After Julietta had set the music box carefully back onto its shelf, they continued down the hall, looking into more rooms and staring at more priceless objects.

"You know," Gwen said after a while. "I wonder how the guys all came to live here. I mean… this place was built for royalty and the guys… well, unless turtles and rats have royalty, I think something is definitely going on."

Angela nodded solemnly. "All Leo would tell me is that this place has been in their family for generations."

"So what?" Julietta said sarcastically. "A rat male laid four turtle eggs? Raph told me that they've lived here their whole lives."

"Raph told you that?"

"I was strapped down for two weeks, there wasn't much to do _but_ talk."

"Actually," Zoey said, staring at a landscape painting big enough to be a bed. "Mikey told me that they're adopted."

"Well, that makes more sense."

"Yeah, at least I can get the question of how a rat has four turtle sons."

"But that still begs the question," Gwen commented. "Of why they're turtles in the first place. In all the books I've read I've never heard of anything like that."

"I asked Raph about that. He just got all defensive and I ended up throwing my tea at him. Good thing, too – it was laced with so much chamomile I would have been a puddle for hours."

"Can't you guys get along?" Angela groaned.

"Sure. We spent two weeks alone together and we're both still alive, aren't we?"

Angie tried to imagine Julietta and Raph alone together having a civil conversation, and failed.

"Hey come and see this!" Zoey squealed a little further down the hall.

They went and saw the newest room was a balcony that overlooked a large room with marble floors and a long carpet that stretched from the door to an area on the other side.

"What's the carpet leading up to?" Zoey wondered, leaning dangerously over the railing.

"Don't know, this balcony's in the way." Julietta craned her neck.

"A grandfather clock!" Gwen said, pointing.

"What?"

There against the far wall was a huge old grandfather clock that stood a glorious fifteen feet in the air. It was made of oak and hammered gold, its face made of mother of pearl and its numbers signified by glittering jewels. In its case was the figure of a small man holding up the pendulum and weights. He appeared to frozen in the act of banging on the glass.

"There's only one grandfather clock in the castle," Angela said softly. "In the main hall."

"The one we're not allowed into?" Zoey asked.

"Maybe we should leave," Gwen whispered, taking a step back towards the door.

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Why should we?" Julietta demanded. "They left the door open!"

"C'mon!" Angie grabbed the reluctant girl's bandaged arm and dragged her out. "Let's go."

Their exploration was officially over.

***********************************

Vittoria fisted her hands in her hair. "How much more of an invitation do these girls need?"

The Lady folded her hands neatly in front of her. "Angela will not go inside. She respects Splinter too much to disobey."

Rachel grinned. "Zoey loves Splinter, but if I lead her to the main hall, she'll go inside."

"Gwen will go if I remind her how curious she is," Mary said.

"Julietta will go just because she's Julietta. But I'll pay her a visit anyway. We'll just have to hope that Angela goes in when she tries to stop them."

***********************************

Angela tucked her legs underneath her in her favorite sun room as she read her latest book. Leo had recommended it to her; it was called _The Art of War_ and was written by an Eastern philosopher. She thought it was fascinating.

After their departure from the forbidden chamber, the four had gone their separate ways, Gwen and Julietta off to have a lesson and Zoey was off searching for Mikey. Julietta had been furious at being forced to leave and Zoey was fiercely disappointed at having missed the chance to snoop. Even Gwen had seemed rather upset at leaving.

But the guys and Master Splinter had been so kind to them all and all they had asked in return was their company and not to enter the room. She was not going to betray their trust.

She turned her full attention to her book and continued to read.

************************************

Gwen couldn't concentrate.

Normally, she would have been fascinated by the improvements that they were brainstorming for the microscope, but today her thoughts kept wandering away to settle on the forbidden main hall.

What was in there that they didn't want her to see?

It wasn't her business, she told herself but there was a soft voice whispering in her thoughts that disagreed. What was the harm in just going to look inside once?

They had forbidden it.

Why? Didn't she want to know? Wasn't she curious?

Of course, she tried to tell the voice, but Master Splinter had asked that she not go in. Donny had asked.

Just once. Never again.

She bit her lip. What should I do?

********************************

That night, Julietta was wandering through a desert with her wolf companion.

She panted heavily – she was dying for a bit of water and, judging by the way her friend's pink tongue was hanging out, so was he. "I hope you know where there's some water around here, boy, or we're gonna be in serious trouble."

The hunter bobbed his head and turned a little to the west. Within five minutes they came upon a huge wooden door standing upright in the middle of the sand. He trotted over to it and scratched at the wood, then turning to look at her expectantly.

A few months ago the gypsy would have demanded an explanation, but now she trusted the wolf completely and did not hesitate to pull open the door.

There was a forest on the other side of the door, with huge venerable trees reaching to the sky with their autumn-colored branches. The coolness of the wooded area was wonderful on her hot skin and she ran gratefully into the trees with her friend at her side.

Within five minutes they had reached a huge lake. Whooping with delight and relief, girl and wolf darted into the water. Goosebumps immediately rose up and down her bronze limbs as she waded further into the water. She drank deeply and splashed herself up and down on her slender arms, cooling her heated flesh.

"MMMMMM… this feels SOOOOOO good," she sighed deeply.

Now thoroughly drenched, Julietta stood up and stretched lazily, the warm fall sun heaven on her skin. Meanwhile, wolf was standing up to his chest in the water looking after her.

"What?"

He looked at her with a familiar expression and cocked his head.

"We'll leave in a sec."

She ran her hands through her wet hair and looked down into the water. She looked as she always did, but soaking wet and red on bronzed cheeks. Then her eyes travelled over to the wolf's reflection.

And choked.

The wolf's reflection was not that of an animal.

He was a man. A gypsy.

About her age with broad shoulders, dark skin, curly black hair, and bright golden eyes. Standing up to his hips in the water exactly where the wolf had been standing.

She whipped her gaze back up. The wolf looked back at her. She turned back to the water.

He was looking off to the right, where she was standing. Seeing where she was looking, his eyes met hers in the water and a slow smirk stretched across his face. The golden eyes shining at her were the exact same as the wolf's. The same as someone else's too…

He grinned at her and pointed off to the side.

She stared silently at him and then slowly looked off towards the direction he was indicating.

A huge door – the door that led to the main hall – was standing in the middle of the lake.

She looked around to look at the wolf – and he was gone.

It was the young man, standing up to his hips in the water and smirking – where the hell had she seen that look before? He pointed at the door and extended a hand to her…

*************************************

And she woke with a start.

**************************************

Zoey hummed as she skipped out of her room after her bath after morning training. Julietta had said that they were going to try to actually sit on the horses today – to sit on a horse for real!

She hopped down the stairs and ran down the hall. And then she stopped.

A slender young woman was waving at her.

The acrobat stared – that was the woman who had lured her into the castle – the ghost.

"What are you doing here?"

The woman smiled brightly at her and beckoned her to follow.

"No way, the last time I followed you I ended up being trapped in a castle with a bunch of turtles and a rat!"

An amused smile spread against her face, eyebrows rising.

Zoey pouted. "It doesn't matter how much I like living here with everyone! You tricked me!"

The lady just giggled silently and walked away.

Sticking her lip out, Zoey tried to walk the opposite direction, to just leave this alone and see Rosie… but this was way too cool to let go. She followed the spirit down the hall, down the grand staircase, around the entrance hall and straight to the door of the forbidden main hall.

*******************************

Angela couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Julietta, with her kopis blades hanging from her belt once again, was tugging at the door handle of the off limits main hall. Even worse, Zoey and Gwen were flanking her, identical burning curiosity on their faces.

"Girls!"

The three turned in unison to look at her – Gwen with guilt, Zoey looking rather disappointed and Julietta outright annoyance.

"What do you want, Goldilocks?"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to open the door." The gypsy turned back to the door and yanked.

It opened easily and silently.

"Don't you dare! Didn't they tell you this was off limits?"

"Sure, but I want to see, anyway."

Angie had to literally remind herself not to tear out a bit of her own hair. "Gwen! Zoey! What are you doing?"

Julietta made to go inside.

"Julietta! You can't do this! We are expressly forbidden to go into the main hall!"

The young woman turned to look at her.

Silver on almost-black.

"Then stay outside."

And then she ducked inside.

The blonde ran to the door and hissed after the rebel. "Get back here!"

When there was no sign of obedience, the noble wheeled around to scold the other two. "What were you thinking?"

Zoey paid no attention, choosing instead to slip inside as well. "Sorry, Angie!"

Mouth hanging open, she watched as the auburn-haired girl vanished into the chamber.

"Angela," Gwen said softly. "I'm going inside. I'll be out in a few minutes, please excuse me."

And she went inside.

There was a long moment during which Angela could only stand stock still. And then she let loose a string of most unladylike words and followed them inside.

And gasped.

It was a throne room.

A throne room!

The carpet path they had seen cutting through the marble floor lead straight up to a large dais that stood at the back of the chamber. The room was all of marble – the floors, the huge pillars that held up the balconies like that they had encountered yesterday, and the walls – and the ceiling…the ceiling was all of glass planes and graceful frescos. Between the pillars, which stood along the sides of the room about twenty feet apart like sentries, were tall graceful windows that flanked portraits.

It was at these that her friends were staring at in awe.

Each painting was of handsome and very regal looking families. It seemed to be a family line of some sort as the father of the family usually seemed to be the biggest boy in the previous painting aged by about twenty years.

Angela walked down the room, gaping at it all, to join the others at the one they were staring at.

This particular one was of a wise, elderly looking man with salt and pepper hair sitting in a fine chair, surrounded by four teenage boys. The father looked nothing like his sons, and the boys looked nothing like each other. The father looked distinctly Eastern with neatly trimmed hair and goatee. He was dressed in a simple black tunic and black pants.

The young man on his right was extraordinarily handsome, with dark blond hair and dark brown eyes. He looked down at his audience with a gentle smile as though he was actually meeting each person looking at the painting.

The boy on the man's far right looked younger than any of the others and had pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His smile was huge and friendly, and had dimples on either side; she found herself fighting back a smile just by looking at him.

The kid on the man's left was… a gypsy? What else could he be with that brown skin, curly black hair and amber eyes? His smile was more of an impatient smirk – as though he was laughing at the painter who was wasting so much of his time.

On the far left was a teenager with light brown hair and dreamy brown eyes. His smile was kind and soft – and a million miles away. He was quite obviously thinking of something else.

Each boy was dressed in a white shirt and black pants, which accentuated their sheer differences.

"Wow," Gwen whispered.

Angela had to agree. Most definitely wow.

Her eyes kept wandering to the dark brown eyes of the proud young man on the king's – for surely it must be him – and the way they seemed to smile directly at her. And… those eyes did seem very familiar… but she couldn't place them.

"Are these the princes and the king?" Zoey asked quietly.

"I… I think so…" Julietta said softly.

Finally, Angie was able to turn to look up at the dais. The platform was circular and there were doors on either side of it. Huge windows were directly behind it, five enormous windows, three stained glass and two windows. The stained glass windows each held a depiction of great dragons, the right one gold, the left one silver, and the center one a brilliant white. Each was reared up, long necks thrown back nobly and their dark eyes were wise.

On the dais itself were five handsome chairs, four smaller silver ones flanking a larger gold one.

Thrones for the king and his four sons.

Angela could only stare.

This was beyond anything she had ever even dreamed of.

She slowly lifted up her skirts and stepped up onto the dais – she wanted to see what it was like.

"A – hem."

Her stomach and heart plummeted to her toes.

There was Master Splinter, standing at the entrance of the throne room, one arm folded behind him, the other holding his cane and looking rather stern. "Come."

They followed him silently out of the room.

They were, as Zoey so eloquently put it: "Busted."

And yet… whenever she closed her eyes, Angela could now see the handsome prince smiling down at her.

**Review please!**


	26. Christmas

**Thanks so much for your awesome reviews! Here is your reward!**

Chapter 25

Christmas

"_OOOOOOOOO! They're in trouble!"_

"_How come they weren't allowed to go in the room?"_

"_Because grownups make up rules just to ruin people's fun!"_

"_That's quite enough, little miss. Listen to the story."_

All in all, Master Splinter was very calm about the whole blatantly disobeying him thing – aside from giving them six additional hours of training everyday for a month. At least he didn't tell the guys, he did however tell them that there was something he was going to require of them in several months – something that would lead to enormous changes in many lives.

They never spoke about anything they had seen in the throne room, especially not the portrait. Angela did not mention how the dark eyes of one of the princes were maddeningly familiar, Zoey did not mention the smile of the youngest prince, Gwen kept her confusion about her conflicting feelings for Donny and the boy with the dreamy smile to herself, and Julietta tortured herself with the knowledge that the smirking gypsy in the painting was the same one in her dream privately.

What was going on with this place?

But life went on as usual inside the castle, Gwen and Donny continued with their experiments and explosions. They redesigned their microscope and began staring at things under it – starting with the gunpowder. Six explosions later, they decided to try looking at something a bit more stable – like the blood trickling from Gwen's arm.

"Are you sure about this, Gwen?" Donny asked, carefully taking a drop of her blood onto a slide of glass.

"Of course, Don, it's my blood after all."

The turtle turned to her and took her injured limb gently in his hands. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

He wrapped her arm carefully.

She sighed. "I can do that myself, you know."

"I know."

She sighed again, but let him bandage her up. As he finished tying it up, he smiled at her.

Her stomach did a little jump and she smiled shyly back.

********************************

It was finished. The story book was finished. It had been wrapped in a leather binding and titled "Silly Stories" by Michelangelo Hamato, illustrations by Zoey Freeman.

"I can't believe this!" Zoey squealed, holding the book over her head in triumph, "It's finally finished!"

Mikey shook his clasped fists over his head like a champion. "Whoo-hooo!"

The two danced around the art room as though they had gone insane, Mikey grabbing her around the waist and whirling around. At last they collapsed on the floor, laughing.

Even as she celebrated, Zoey couldn't help to think that her best friend looked somehow familiar.

*********************************

Raph did not like this idea. "This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard."

"Shut up and just hold on to Demonio," Julietta snapped at him. "I don't need him jumping around while I get on."

"The damn horse hates me, why are you asking me to do this?"

"First of all: I ain't askin', I'm telling you. Second of all: Demonio doesn't like any of you guys and you just happen to be the one with the least chance of letting him bolt while I'm mounting. And third: to control a demon, you must send in a demon."

Anger shot through him, but sputtered to a halt when he saw the teasing smirk on her face. "Fine. Whatever. Don't blame me if you get yourself flattened."

"Of course I will. Now wait here while I go get him."

The turtle scoffed and grumbled as the young woman went into the stables. Why was he agreeing to this?

Because he had been completely shocked when Julietta had come to him of her own free will to ask him for a favor – the sheer shock of that phenomenon had stunned him into agreeing before he even heard what the favor was.

Strangely enough, they had somehow managed to keep up their truce even after she had gotten better. The two weeks she had been confined to her room had been long and tense at first until they finally just decided to act as though nothing was wrong.

This lead to long arguments and shouting matches fueled only by the desire to pass time.

This in turn led to relatively civil conversations… that ended in arguments.

His attention was recaptured when she came out of the stables with the huge horse Demonio. The colt took one look at who was waiting for them and immediately tried to run, nearly yanking Julietta off of her feet.

"Okay," she panted, handing the lead rope off to him – which led to Demonio screaming and jerking furiously on the rope. "Here we go."

Yeah, here we go.

****************************************

Dinner that night was enjoyable, Zoey and Mikey smugly boasting about their finished project to anyone who would listen, Gwen and Donny discussing what they had seen in Gwen's blood under the microscope with Master Splinter, Leo and Angie were talking about the cooling weather, and Julietta and Raph were complaining about their nasty bruises from wrestling with Demonio.

When everyone was finished and had moved into the parlor for their after dinner gathering, Master Splinter spoke, "Christmas is coming upon us, and with our many guests, we will have a proper celebration. This means, of course, formal wear…" His sharp eyes lingered on Julietta's muddy rumpled short skirt, Zoey's paint splattered clothes, and Gwen's singed blouse. "And as it is Christmas –"

"Presents!" Zoey shrieked, clapping her hands in glee.

"Precisely. I will leave you all to it."

Immediately, excited conversation broke out.

*******************************************

"This just keeps getting better and better!" Rachel said, happily.

"That was a very good idea, Master," Vittoria commented.

"It really was!" Mary agreed.

The Lady was completely calm as usual. "Let's just hope it works."

**************************************

The next two months were filled with preparations and secret projects. Raph's hands were suddenly covered in deep nasty gashes. Leo disappeared for hours on end and Donny took to locking Gwen out of one of his workshops. Angela no longer did her needlework in public, choosing instead to barricade herself in her room while she worked. Zoey locked her art room door and Gwen spent hours in the library alone. Julietta was nowhere to be found after lunch for over three hours every day.

Thanksgiving passed with little notice, though Zoey and Mikey did their part to encourage mayhem by starting a food fight. For thirty minutes, turkey and mashed potatoes flew through the dining room, Gwen, Donny, Leo, and Angela taking cover behind the table, and Raph, Mikey, Zoey and Julietta taking shelter behind Master Splinter. The night ended with good natured laughter and bathes all around.

The next day was filled with sleepy recovery and continuing secret work.

The first week of the month they celebrated Angie's birthday with a large dinner.

Around the middle of December, Julietta lost her temper with Raph's closed-mouthedness about his mysterious injuries and, after a long battle that ended with an epic bit of vase throwing, rebandaged them herself, promising him that if she ever had to step in like this again that she would tie his hands together. He had scowled at her and complained that she wasn't his mother and that he could take of himself, but in the end had let her look after his abused hands.

Finally, Christmas Eve arrived.

***********************************

At around four in the afternoon, the girls were ushered away from their activities and taken into their rooms to get dressed.

Angela's long blonde hair was twisted up to show off her long graceful neck and secured with a silver hairpin. Her dress was a lovely bit of pale blue satin that had an elegant V neck, and was slick around the waist where beautiful beadwork glittered, then looser to fall in a solid wave down to her feet which were held in dainty silver shoes. The sleeves were sheer silvery material that puffed out neatly around her arms and were tight only on her shoulders and wrists. Makeup was applied sparingly to her fair complexion and the silver pendant that Leo had given her was strung around her neck.

I look, she thought in awe, staring at her reflection, like a princess.

Her thoughts suddenly swung to the handsome blond young man in the picture and then over to Leo.

Angie blushed scarlet.

**********************************

Far off down the hall, Julietta was, as usual, fighting with the servants. "He said formal! He didn't say to doll me up!"

The flames paid no attention as they dumped her in the bathtub and scrubbed her with scented soaps and shampoos and conditioners and God only knew what else. It unceremoniously dragged her out even as towels were rubbed all over her. Evidently they were taking no chances with her trying to escape.

Her hair was brushed and tended to until it shone and creams and powders were spread over her face. They gave her a slick silk red dress that had only one shoulder that slashed across the main part of the dress in a bold streak of gold. It went all the way to the floor and they forced a pair of high heeled shoes on her feet. Her hooped earrings were replaced with elegant golden ones and a matching bracelet was put on her wrist.

When she tried to tie back her hair, the flames swooped in and held back her hands. "What? My hair annoys me."

A mirror was shoved in her face and she reluctantly peered in.

She stared in shock. What the hell had they done to her?

***********************************

Gwen nervously allowed them to brush her brown hair and pull part of it back, fastening it with a clip. She was assisted into a dark violet dress with a full pale lavender skirt stitched with blooming flowers along the bottom and a black bodice that extended up to the middle of her back before leaving off to fasten around her neck and embroidered pale lavender flowers around the edges.

Long silver earrings were put on her and a matching necklace curled around her neck. Slippers were put on her feet and makeup was brushed across her face carefully.

She was offered a mirror… and couldn't believe her eyes.

Was that really her?

*************************************

Zoey giggled as they brushed her long wavy auburn curls and clipped it back with twin golden clips in the form of birds. Her dress was white with a lightly pleated skirt that was joined with the bodice with a golden belt. The bodice was white and simple, with a golden border around the back of her gown that tied behind her neck gracefully.

A golden chain with a pearl charm was around her neck and matching earrings were put on her. Make up was applied and shoes were given to her.

Finally, a mirror appeared on the wall.

She took one look and squealed with delight.

************************************

Leo stood nervously in the entrance hall, waiting with his brothers and father for the girls. He was dressed as he always was, though he had left his katanas in his room, belt, wrist wraps, and bandana. It felt rather pointless for the girls to be expected to dress up when they would be eating with giant turtles and rat.

But it reminded him of Christmas before they had been cursed. It had always been a huge affair, Christmas trees set up everywhere in the castle and decorations in every room.

Christmas Eve had probably been the best day of the entire year. They ate almost nothing until mid afternoon when they put on their formal tunics and ate a fancy dinner in the dining room. After that, they gathered in the family room to decorate the Christmas tree that stood bare in the corner of the room for the better part of December and spent the rest of the night playing and laughing. At midnight, they opened each other's presents and celebrated until sunrise. The next eleven days were filled with rich food and games and more presents. It was the best time of the year.

Needless to say, the Christmas spirit had been rather sparse the last few years.

This year, however, the castle was now strung with decorations – not as many as had once been the norm, but more than last year – and there was a bare Christmas tree surrounded by dusty boxes in the family room, ready to be decorated.

His thoughts drifted away from the Christmas preparations and went to the girls.

The longer they stayed here, the more and more optimistic he became that they could break the curse. Gwen and Donny were certainly coming along very nicely, he only had to mention Gwen and his brother would flush darkly. Zoey and Mikey were getting closer and closer. Raph and Julietta were… were… well, at least they hadn't killed each other yet. He wasn't entirely sure what love between two such wild individuals was supposed to look like, anyway. And Angela and himself? He didn't know, he like her well enough he supposed… she made him feel – different, good.

He winced and shook his head quickly, turning his eyes to his feet. Control yourself, Leonardo! He told himself. Don't do anything stupid.

"Good evening ladies," Master Splinter said courteously.

Leo looked to the grand staircase. His heart did a strange, but not altogether unpleasant, flipflop.

A beautiful blond woman in a delicate shade of blue was coming down the stairs with other lovely girls. But he had eyes only for the blonde.

She had one slender, graceful hand on the banister and was descending as gracefully and smoothly as though she was the queen of the castle.

He had never seen anyone more beautiful.

Beside him, his brothers were making hoarse noises, as though they were being strangled, but he couldn't tear his eyes away as she reached the bottom of the staircase and approached him confidently.

She glided over to him and gave him a courtesy. The kind a princess would give a prince.

And all the poised, controlled Leonardo Hamato could do was gape.

************************************

Mikey thought for sure he was dreaming. Stuff like this didn't happen. The prettiest girl in the world did not walk up to overgrown turtles and giggle a hello.

"Zoey?"

"Yup!" She turned a quick spin. "What do you think? Do I look okay?"

He shook his head. "Nu-Uh."

Her face fell. "Really? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. You look really pretty. Not just okay. Really, really pretty."

She hugged him tightly and he was overwhelmed with the sweet smell of honeysuckle, sunshine and clean cotton imbedded in her skin. "Thanks!"

The turtle could only smile back goofily.

"Shall we go to dinner?" Master Splinter asked calmly.

*********************************

Donny offered his arm dazedly to Gwen, who took it shyly.

He had always known that she was very pretty – but how could he have failed to notice just how pretty? How beautiful?

How had he not noticed it?

"Donny?"

"Huh?"

"What's wrong? You're staring at me…"

He jumped and blinked. "I am?"

She scuffed her foot against the ground. "Uh-huh."

"Sorry. It's just… you look… um… very nice…"

"I thought I told you not to patronize me? I know I look weird –"

"No." The words came out harsher than he intended. "You look beautiful."

"But –"

"You do. No arguments."

Gwen looked at him in bewilderment. "Ummmm… okay?"

There was a moment of embarrassed silence.

"You look very nice, too."

He looked at her, then down to himself. Turtle all the way. "Sure."

She slapped his arm. "Rule number three. No knocking yourself, after you've said I can't knock myself, remember?"

They scowled for a moment at each other before the smiles they had been trying to hide burst out.

**********************************

Raph stood impatiently as his brothers stood around him, staring stupidly at the girls on their arms. Where the hell was Julietta? Had she tried to make a break for –

Holy shit.

A young gypsy woman had appeared at the top of the stairs.

Holy shit, and holy shit again.

Was that really Julietta?

The girl grabbed the banister in a grim hold and tried to go down the stairs. She stumbled all the way down, cursing as she went.

Yup, that was Julietta.

He leapt to grab her before she hit the ground. "What the hell is wrong with you? I thought your feet healed already."

Her dark eyes skewered him. "They strapped these god-awful shoes on me. And now I can't even freakin' walk!"

Definitely Julietta.

"Then take them off, idiot," he hissed at her, offering his arm.

She looked about ready to take his head off. "Don't you think I've already tried that? They don't come off." She eyed his arm scornfully and tried to take a step by herself.

And promptly staggered.

Raph took her hand bad temperedly and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. "Just take my damn arm."

She spent too much of the walk to the dining room clinging to him to balance on her ridiculous shoes to snarl a comeback. This made it easier to take a good look at her – it was easier to notice just how attractive she was when she wasn't yelling or arguing with him.

For one thing, he had never actually seen her healthy and wearing her hair down, she was always tying it up out of her face. In the torchlight, her dark hair almost had a coppery shine imbedded in the curls. The dress showed off her graceful, lithe body far more than her wrinkled skirts, and ripped shirts ever had and whatever they had done to her face made her dark brown eyes seem even bigger.

They entered the dining room, and he led her to the closest chair. Pulling it out for her, he watched as she collapsed into the chair with a relieved sigh and walked to his chair.

Master Splinter said the blessing and food immediately appeared.

Mmmm… he had forgotten just how good food was at Christmas.

Roasted chicken, roast beef, chestnut-stuffed turkey, ham, goose, duck, and pheasant…

Corn, squash, green beans, yams, mashed potatoes, and rolls…

Hot chocolate, coffee, juice, wine, beer, water, and eggnog…

Raph happily loaded up his plate and set to work cleaning it. However, he seemed to have picked an annoying habit that was not going unnoticed.

"What are you staring at?" Julietta demanded for about the fourth time.

"Nothing," he grumbled around a mouthful of ham.

Five minutes later.

"_Will you stop staring at me, goddamnit?"_

"_I am not staring at you!"_

"You kind of are," Zoey said brightly, swallowing some mashed potatoes.

"I'm not," he growled, stabbing at his yam.

"You are!" she sang.

"Why the hell would I want to look at her?"

"_What was that?"_

Oops.

As usual, his mouth ran: "Was I talkin' to you?"

"That's enough you two." Angela glared at them from her chair beside Leo. "It's Christmas Eve, let's not fight."

When they had finally finished stuffing themselves, they leaned back contentedly back in their chairs. After a few minutes of digestion, Master Splinter dismissed them to retrieve their presents and asked them to come into the parlor.

Julietta needed Angela and Mikey to pull her to her painful feet and hobbled off.

Raph watched her stumble and groaned. "Wait up, Julietta. You're gonna take forever that way."

She spun around to yell at him, yowled, and fell gracelessly to the ground in a heap.

*********************************

Angela placed her neatly wrapped gifts on the sofa and turned to the boxes that surrounded the huge Christmas tree.

She hadn't had a proper Christmas for five years and it certainly seemed that the guys knew how to have a proper Christmas. For a wild moment, she felt like joining Zoey in her little wild hopping dance around the tree, but a lady was expected to hold her poise at all times.

"Don't be so stiff, Angie," Leo said suddenly, appearing at her shoulder. "No one's going to get angry if you loosen up a little bit for Christmas."

She looked at him with a rather weary smile. "Sorry. Long time habit."

He chuckled gently at her. "At least you aren't speaking so properly anymore."

Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. "I'm not?"

"No, and you show more emotion now."

"I do?"

He smiled at her. "Don't worry, it's a compliment."

Angie blinked at him in confusion at him, before deciding to just go with it. "Thank you, My Lord Leo," she said with complete control, giving him a flawless curtsey, and flashing him humorous smile.

Returning her smile, he folded a hand against his plastron and the other on his shell and gave her a smooth bow. "It is my pleasure, Lady Angela."

They both laughed.

When Julietta came in, she was carried by Raphael. The looks on the two's faces dared someone to make a comment.

The red-banded turtle growled as he set down the gypsy on the coach.

"Are you alright, Julie?" Gwen asked with concern.

"These damn shoes! They're killing my feet and I can't get them off."

Gwen drew up her own lavender dress and peered at her very comfortable slippers. "Your shoes?"

Her dark-skinned friend drew up her red dress' skirt and showed dainty little high-heels that were strapped far too tightly on her feet.

"Oh wow. Ouch."

"Tell me about it." She dropped the skirt around her feet.

Leaving Julietta on the couch to wrestle with her shoes, the rest of the others began to decorate the tree. Zoey and Mikey laughed as they tried to tie up Raph with a string of popcorn balls with interesting consequences. Donny and Gwen strung a chain of enchanted glass balls that flashed different colors around the tree. Leo handed ornaments to Angela who hung them on the branches.

Master Splinter sat in the armchair and watched quietly.

"Think fast Julie!" The two masters of mayhem, better known as Zoey and Mikey, dumped an entire bucket of popcorn balls over her head.

With a sharp scream, she tried to leap to her feet, only to over balance and fall onto the floor.

"That will do." Master Splinter looked over the Christmas tree. "It looks lovely. Shall we begin the exchange?"

Angela bit her lip in unexpected anticipation and sat down between Leo and Julietta.

******************************

Zoey skipped back to her room, arms full of her presents, which included sketchbooks, pencils, paints, and an easel.

She had never ever had a Christmas like that. And it still wasn't over! They had just finished unwrapping presents when desserts appeared. Master Splinter had insisted that they go and put their gifts away before gorging themselves on sweets.

She finally made it to her room and dumped her things on her bed, before hurrying out.

Running through the halls, the young woman had almost reached the family room when –

"Hey, Z?"

The girl gasped and saw Mikey loitering nervously besides the door into the parlor. "Mikey! You scared me!"

The turtle moved nervously into the light, holding something behind his shell. "Sorry… um… listen… I wanted you to have something."

"OOOOOO!" Zoey immediately began bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, trying to see behind him. "What is it?"

His bright blue eyes found hers shyly as he drew out a messily wrapped gift. "Here."

Trembling with anticipation, she tore off the paper and saw the present. Her delighted expression froze.

She looked up at him. "Mikey?"

"It's the book we made." He shuffled his feet. "Don't you want it?"

Zoey stared at the beautiful leather binding of the book. "This is for me?"

"Yeah… I thought you should have it. Y'know… you helped me so much… and I… I just want you to have it!"

She hugged it to her chest and beamed at him. "Really?"

"Uh-huh!" His head bobbed. "It's more yours than mine anyway."

"No way!" she cocked her head sweetly at him. "But thank you, Mikey! You are the best friend anyone could ever have!"

And before he could say anything else, Zoey darted forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Without another word, she ducked inside the parlor.

Mikey stood outside the room for a long moment. Then, all at once, he leapt into the air and did a quick happy dance.

*************************************

Gwen closed her bedroom door behind her.

She couldn't wait to taste some of that fruit pie!

"Ummm… excuse me? Gwen?"

"Donny?"

There he was standing a little ways down the hall.

"What is it?"

"Ummmm… this is for you…" he offered a box.

"Umm, thank you…" She opened the top.

And gasped. "Wow."

"I…um… I know how much you liked looking at the stars last March… so I thought... well, I know I gave you a present already… but this… this seemed more… appropriate and I –"

He trailed off at the look on her face. "You like it?"

She brushed her fingers gently along the metal outline of the telescope. "Yes."

Her large hazel eyes met his, "Thank you."

He leaned forward a bit. "You're welcome."

She was closer as well. "I don't have anything else for you though."

"That's alright… I just… wanted you to have something special…"

The box was the only thing separating them now; they were leaning towards each other over it.

"Donny?"

"Yeah?"

She trembled when she felt his breath on her face.

And turned her head away. "Will you help me put this in my room?"

He straightened immediately. "Sure."

"And Donny?"

"Yeah?"

She pressed her cheek to his. "I love you."

Donatello Hamato suddenly wondered how many physics laws he had broken – one second he had been lower than dirt, the next he was floating among the stars.

************************************

The next few hours were filled with eating, drinking, talking, and playing games. Gwen and Donny were just facing off with Mikey and Zoey for a showdown of charades when Raph abruptly stood up and motioned to Julietta.

"What?" she demanded, her legs folded beneath her on the sofa.

"I need to talk to you."

"So talk."

"Alone."

She scowled up at him. "I am not getting up. My feet feel like they're about to fall off as it is."

"Didn't you tell them to take those damn things off?"

"Yup."

"And?"

"I'm still losing circulation." She held up a warning hand. "And don't even think about trying to carry me."

He glared. "I want to talk to you."

"You said that already. Now say something else."

There was a long standoff – amber eyes burning, dark eyes glittering – neither giving in.

Finally…

_Sploosh_

_Splash_

The stalemate was immediately brought to a screeching halt when ice cold wine was thrown over both bad tempered teens' heads.

"HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!" Zoey and Mikey laughed, each holding an empty bucket. The two pranksters took one look at their victims' faces and bolted.

With a snarl more appropriate for a wolf than a young lady, Julietta surged to her feet, only to curse and fall back down.

"Raphael?" she gritted out. "Would you be so kind as to come here?"

Said turtle abruptly halted in his pursuit of the troublemakers and turned to the gypsy. "What for?"

"Come here, damn it."

Raph had never heard her like this before; he had heard her screeching and ranting in fury, had seen her fight when in a rage – that hadn't been pretty – and had watched while she got so angry that she ended up hurting herself. But he had never seen her so angry that she could barely speak.

It was scaring the crap out of him.

So he found himself blindly obeying her, walking over to the coach.

"Get these shoes off of me."

"What?"

Julietta wrenched up her skirts to show the tiny elegant shoes she had been forced into. "Yank them off."

"Why?"

Her dark eyes glittered golden-brown in the firelight. "I want to join the hunt."

He grinned and grabbed one shoe. It came off with a powerful yank. The other came off after another forceful jerk.

Torture devices off, the young woman rose to her feet and faced him. "Join forces for tonight? Just until we catch the idiots?"

"Whoa, hold on, you two!" Donny shouted even as they nodded to each other and ran out of the room.

"Relax, Don." Raph turned his attention to the girl beside him. "Before we get too wrapped up in beating the shit out of those two, here."

Julietta blinked at the plainly wrapped box in her hands. "What's this?"

"Just… take it, would ya?"

With a suspicious look at her terrapin companion, Julietta ripped the paper off of the box.

Her eyes got big. Really big. You could see the white all around her irises big.

"I'm pretty good with my hands. Not like Donny and Gwen, though, I'm just not a half bad carpenter. And… well, Gwen told me that you really like the music box room so I figured, what the hell?"

It was a music box, expertly carved out of cherry wood. She ran her fingers over it in wonder.

"Did you make this?"

"Just the wood part, Donny and Gwen had to help me out with the music thing."

She opened it.

It was lined with velvet and in the middle was the figurine of…

Her wolf.

A tiny wooden figurine of the wolf she always saw in her dreams. His neck was arched and his golden eyes stared out at her proudly. He was jet black and, when she touched him, she could almost feel the soft fur beneath her fingers.

A low, mysterious gypsy lullaby flowed smoothly from it, adding to its beauty.

"If you don't like it you can give it to someone else."

"Shut up." She looked up at him and couldn't keep a slow smile from spreading across her face. "Thank you."

And it wasn't until after they had caught the culprits and locked them in a closet, and Julietta was in the parlor ignoring Leo and Angela's scolding and admiring her music box that she suddenly realized something.

Raph's eyes were the same gold color as her wolf's!

But then Angela shook her shoulder and demanded her attention, redirecting her thoughts from the thoughts of similar eyes to a new argument.

***************************************

It was almost sunrise of Christmas day and Angela was completely exhausted. Exhausted, but content.

The family room was now a complete mess, popcorn was all over the floor, wrapping paper was strewn over most of the furniture, cups had been upended, the Christmas tree was lopsided, and most of the castle's inhabitants were sprawled out on the floor and sofas.

Zoey and Mikey were asleep on the floor, covered liberally with popcorn. Mikey lay on his stomach, with Zoey using his shell as a pillow. Gwen and Donny were crumbled on the sofa together, Gwen's head on his shoulder. Julietta was curled up in an armchair with a wooden box in her red lap and Raph sitting against the side of the chair, his head hanging to his chest.

"That was quite a party, wasn't it Leo?" she smiled sleepily at the all but silent turtle standing in the shadows.

"You're getting very good at telling where I am, aren't you? Yes, we haven't had that kind of celebration in a very long time."

"Should we wake them or let them just sleep it off?"

"Do you really wake Julietta and Raph?"

"Good point. Well, I think I'll go to bed." She turned to leave.

"Wait. Angela?"

The blonde paused and looked at her friend. "Yes?"

"This is for you." Leo proffered a slender box. "I hope you like it."

Angela curiously took it and opened it. "Oh, Leo…"

They were earrings matching the ones he had given her for her birthday.

"I meant to give you those with the necklace on your birthday, but they weren't finished. Do you like them?"

She hugged the elegant jewelry to her chest. "I love them, thank you so much."

He grinned at her. "I'm glad. Merry Christmas, Angie."

"Merry Christmas, Leo."

"_Bed time for all little children," announced the storyteller._

"_WHAT?" _

"_No arguments – let's go."_

"_You'll finish the story tomorrow, right?"_

"_We'll see. Now come on. You need to go to bed."_

**Did you really expect Splinter to tell them so soon? Anyway, REVIEW and tell me what you think. Plot ideas are also welcomed - I'm running a bit dry on ideas.**


	27. Red Siren

**Sorry for the wait, I've been overloading on final exams, packing to go back home and then the high of being back home and having to do absolutely squat for a week. Now it's time for the dreaded summer job hunt and scholarship searching. Yeah.**

**Anyway - here's your new chapter!**

**PS: thanks for your ideas, some of you'll be seeing your ideas here in the near future!**

**Enjoy!!**

Chapter 26

Red Siren

"_OOOOOO! When's Christmas?"_

"_Soon, little one."_

"_What's goin' on here?"_

_Another woman had appeared in the doorway, looking around at them all._

"_A story, Mama! Come and listen!"_

Zoey wandered through the library, looking for the next book in the series she had been reading. She rounded one aisle, and paused.

Was someone singing?

It sounded like it.

_"Come along, my little gypsy girl,  
Come along, my little dear;  
Come along, my little gypsy girl -  
We'll wander far and near."_

_"I should get a leathering  
Should I with thee go;  
I should get a leathering  
From my dear aunt, I trow."_

It was a beautiful voice, tuneful, sweet, and powerful. It was just as good as the minstrels in her old troupe, maybe even better.

Curiosity officially aroused, the young acrobat followed the sound down the row, across four aisles and –

It was Julietta.

"Julie?" she said in disbelief.

The singing abruptly stopped as the gypsy turned around. "What?"

"Was that you singing?"

Julietta shoved the book she had been looking at back into the shelf. "Do I look like I can sing?"

Before Zoey could get another word in, Julietta stomped away.

***********************************

A week later, Angela was just unfastening her cloak after a walk in the garden when she heard raised voices.

Julietta and Zoey were standing face to face in one of the side parlors, the younger girl pouting and the elder snarling.

"Why won't you sing for us?"

"Because I can't freakin' sing!"

"Yes you can! I heard you!"

Angela stepped in. "That's enough. Zoey, if Julietta doesn't want to sing, you shouldn't try to make her."

"Exactly!"

The auburn haired girl looked shocked. "Julie, did you just agree with Angie?"

"Well this time she's right. Now, leave me alone."

Zoey and Angela watched as the gypsy ran out of the room.

"What is this all about?" Angela wanted to know.

"Well, about a week ago I was in the library. I was looking for another book to read, you know, that author I like? I've been reading his books and –"

"What does this have to do with Julietta?"

"What? Oh yeah! Well, while I was in the library I heard this girl singing. When I went to see who it was, I found out it was Julietta! She had such a pretty voice! Even better than you!"

"Oh, I can't really sing very well – I can only hold a tune, nothing really impressive."

"Well, Julie can really sing well! Like an angel!"

"Really? Julietta?"

"Yup! Isn't that weird? But she sounds so pretty!"

"I'd like to hear that…" Angie tried to imagine Julietta singing and failed. "But I can't really see Julietta having that kind of voice."

"Well, she does! But she won't sing in front of people! I've asked like a million times and she just gets angry!"

"Then you shouldn't push it. She'll sing for us when she's ready."

Zoey pouted. "But I want to hear her sing!"

"Have patience!"

"Okay…"

"And don't tell anyone about this!"

******************************

"And she can really sing?!" Mikey said shocked.

"Uh-huh! Really good!"

"Like how good?"

"Angel-good!"

"No one's that good."

"Julie is!"

"I'll believe it when I hear it."

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not that… It's just that… Julietta!"

"I know what you mean," Zoey said, nodding solemnly. "I could barely believe it was Julietta either."

"What about Julietta?"

The two turned to see Donny looking leaning on the back of the sofa they were sitting on.

"Nothing!" they said together.

The intelligent turtle's eye ridges nearly leapt off his face. "What have you two done now?"

"Nothing!"

Not buying it for an instant, Donny crossed his arms over his chest and fixed the two with a stern glare. "Tell it."

Zoey winced. "Well, I was in the library…"

********************************

Gwen hummed as she opened her sheet music and sat up straight on the piano bench. In a moment, a soft traditional melody was lilting from the great instrument.

"What's this song? It sounds really depressing."

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her fingers faltering slightly on the keys.

Julietta was closing the door behind her.

"It's called 'Greensleeves'. It's about this man who's hopelessly in love with a woman who doesn't care about him at all."

"Sounds like a real pathetic loser. Is this girl just stringing him along or what?"

"That's what he makes it seem like."

The red clad girl joined her friend at the piano. "How's it go?"

"Ummm… well," Gwen ran her fingers along the keys nervously. "I'm not that good of a singer."

"Neither am I. Go ahead."

"Swear you won't laugh?"

A bronze hand raised itself solemnly into the air. "In the name of the Holy Father, I swear."

"Okay…"

The shy pianist played the song perfectly, singing along with her sweet, though mildly off key, voice.

"Hm, definitely a pathetic loser. He needs a good lay."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Gwen. And you're not that bad of a singer."

Gwen smiled a bit wryly. "I'm always off key."

"Who cares? You should play for Donny."

Heat rushed to her cheeks. "He wouldn't be interested in this."

"Why not? He's the kind of guy you share stuff with – the kind of guy you take home and marry."

Her face burned and she pressed her hands to her cheeks.

"Easy, there, girl, I'm only teasing."

"What about Raph?" Gwen demanded, now determined to make the gypsy blush.

"What about him?"

"What kind of guy is he?"

"The kind you slap."

"That's all?"

Her friend cocked her head thoughtfully. "The kind… hmmm… you argue with."

"Wouldn't you tell him things?"

"If I had to."

"You don't think he can keep a secret?"

Julietta snorted. "That turtle can guard secrets like a gypsy hound."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't want to give him _my _secrets."

"Why not? He's nice… in a… Raph-ish kind of way."

"Yeah. A real saint."

Gwen laughed. "I would think you two would get along very well."

"How do you figure that?"

"You both are strong, reliable, and you both get angry over the same things."

"Yeah, each other."

The musician smiled. "If you two are such enemies, why'd he give you the music box?"

For the first time, she saw a red flush crawl up the other girl's graceful bronze cheeks.

********************************

Julietta forced her way through the snow drifts, towards the stables. A bag was slung over her shoulder, filled with apples, several pieces of bread, a container full of hot coffee, and her music box.

The flames had insisted on wearing boots and she could understand – not that that meant that she was actually going to listen and accept everything it tried to make her do – as she stumped through the white meadows.

The air was crisp and cold on her cheeks and she pulled her cloak and jacket closer to herself. She reached the stables not a moment too soon and quickly made her way across the snow covered front yard and ducked inside the building.

"Mmmm…" She let her hood fall back to her shoulders and began pulling off her gloves.

It was deliciously warm in here and in no time at all, she had shed her cloak, her jacket, and her scarf onto pegs on the walls. Due to the cold weather, her normally low cut, loose clothes had been replaced by long sleeved blouses that just managed to hang onto her shoulders, skirts that almost hung all the way down to her ankles, stockings and boots. Predictably, Angela was mortified in her wardrobe, despite the fact that she was far more covered up than usual.

Normally she would have waited until noon when it was warmer, but now she left the house directly after practice to avoid the curious looks she was now getting. Zoey still hadn't given up on getting her to sing in front of everyone and had spread the news that the resident gypsy girl allegedly could sing. Now everywhere she went, it felt as though someone was watching her, trying to catch her singing.

The only place she ever had any peace was here where the horses didn't care a rat's ass if she could carry a tune or not.

Meanwhile, the horses were comfortably munching away at their feed, paying almost no attention to the young human woman entering their domain. Dancer was the only one who showed any interest, hurrying to peer over her stall door and whinny happily at the approach of her mistress.

"Hey there, pretty one," Julietta greeted with a brisk rub between the sable eyes. "How're you holding up?"

The filly threw her mane spiritedly.

"That's good. Well, let's get you groomed then."

She found the brushes and the picks, and took out and opened her music box. Making sure it was properly wound, she set it up on a conveniently placed shelf and got to work on her horse.

After a few bars, the gypsy began singing along to the smooth lullaby:

"_Ninna nanna, ninna oh  
"Questo bimbo a chi lo dò?  
"Se lo dò alla Befana,  
"Se lo tiene una settimana.  
"Se lo dò all'uomo nero,  
"Se lo tiene un anno intero.  
__"Ninna nanna, ninna oh,  
"Questo bimbo me lo terrò!"_

In less than an hour, Dancer, Titan, Demonio, Lady, Ranger and Rosie were neatly groomed and Julietta was just brushing through Nimbus' steel grey tail. _"Questo bimbo a chi lo –"_

"So you can sing."

Julietta just about jumped out of her skin, as it was, she stood up so abruptly that she startled Nimbus and upset the stool she had been using.

Raph was leaning against the stall door, looking at her strangely with one eye ridge raised.

"Guess you didn't notice me, didja?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Came to see Demonio."

"Well, don't let me bother you."

"I didn't plan to."

She turned back to the grey tail, only to realize that Raph was still watching her. "Is there something I can help you with? Because my answer is no."

"That was you singin', wasn't it?"

"I can't sing – I'm tone deaf."

"Wasn't that you singin' just now?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Then you definitely aren't tone deaf."

"How nice for me." Julietta was horrified to feel heat rising in her cheeks. What the hell was she doing? This was only Raph!

"What were ya singin'?"

"A song."

He chuckled dryly. "Could you be more specific?"

"The song my music box plays."

"What's it called?"

"Don't you know?"

"Obviously not, if I'm askin'."

"Since you made the music box –"

"I just went lookin' for a song that sounded like it could be a gypsy tune. I don't know what the hell the song's called – it just sounded gypsy."

"It is. It's a lullaby."

"Called?"

She tapped Nimbus' foot and began picking out the hoof. "Ninna nanna, ninna oh."

"Oh. What's it mean?"

"Why do you want to know?" she demanded sharply, looking up at him.

He had his arms folded across the stall door. His amber eyes were lazy. "Just curious… and it sounds kinda familiar."

"Why are you being so… weird?"

"I was out in the snow."

"And?"

"Turtles get sleepy when they're cold."

"Then what the hell were are you doing out here? What would happen if you fell asleep out there?"

"I'd probably freeze."

"I reiterate. What the hell were you doing out there?"

"My house, I can do what I want. What's that song mean?"

She hissed at him. "Beat it."

"Can't."

"And why the hell not?"

"Too lazy to move."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Will you leave if I tell you what it means?"

"I don't know. If I want to."

She glared at him and finished up Nimbus. Setting the last hoof down, she marched to the door and forced her way past him. "You are an idiot."

"Uh-huh. Whatever." He got up and wandered down the hall to Demonio's stall.

During the long days he had hung onto the wild horse's halter while Julietta mounted and taught him to accept a human on his back he and the dangerous colt had grown rather close. They understood and respected each other.

Julietta retrieved her music box from the shelf and stole a glance at the turtle rubbing the black horse's neck. A pang of curiosity ran through her.

"Raph? How old are you exactly?"

"Not quite sure. About eighteen. My birthday was last July. What about you?"

"Hm? Oh, I'll be seventeen in a week."

He smirked in amusement. "You're just a baby aren't you, Julie?"

She growled. "Who said you could call me Julie?"

"Julietta is a woman's name. You're just a little girl."

The gypsy swelled in fury. _"Little girl?!" _

She started to stomp towards him, ready to start swinging when she noticed his shoulders shaking with laughter. Her fury instantly drained and she could only stare at him in blatant confusion. "You are seriously out of it today, aren't you?"

His big shoulders shrugged carelessly. "In a good mood I guess."

"Are you drunk?"

"Nah. So that song – the lullaby – what's it say in English?"

Julietta threw her hair impatiently, "You really aren't going to give up on that, are you?"

"Nope. Tell me what it says."

"The title means 'Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby'."

"Inventive title."

"Do you wanna know what it means, or what?" she demanded, beginning to brush Willow.

"Take it easy! Yeah, keep goin'."

"It basically asks who the mom could give the baby to, but in the end she decides to keep him for herself."

"And gypsies sing about that stuff?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"I thought gypsies were all about family and stuff, why're they talking about –"

"It's just a joke! And the whole point is that the mother decides she keeps the baby in the end!"

Raph made a low noise of assent as he turned back to Demonio. "You gonna sing it again?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"You're here."

"So?" he offered a slice of apple to Demonio who eagerly lipped it up.

"I said I wasn't going to sing."

Shrug. "Whatever."

Wait a second. "You don't want to hear me sing?" But everyone had bugged her at least once about the singing.

Except Master Splinter. And Raph.

"If you don't want to then don't. I don't care."

She rolled her eyes and retrieved her canteen of coffee. "That's not what I asked."

"I couldn't care less what you do as long as you don't try to leave or kill yourself or anyone else. But… yeah, I guess I want to hear you sing."

"Why does everyone want to hear me freakin' sing? What is the big deal?" She made to get ready to leave.

"Why're you makin' such a big deal out of it?" He cocked an eye ridge at her as he gave the black colt another apple slice. "If the Julietta I know really wanted to sing, she'd do it and not care what anyone said or wanted. She wouldn't be runnin' away from something so stupid, either."

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence as Raph ran a hand along Demonio's powerful neck and Julietta stared at his shell.

Then –

"_Ninna nanna, ninna oh..." _she began again, rewinding the music box and setting it back onto the shelf and going into Willow's stall to continue grooming.

************************************

Raph left about twenty minutes later with an absent "Seeya, Julie."

Having resolved to ask him where the hell he got off calling her that next time she saw him, Julietta finished off the last horse, Boomer, and reclined lazily back in the straw for a nap.

She and her wolf struggled through the mountains and faced down an enormous wildcat that was bigger than she and the wolf put together. It was a short but vicious fight, and the huge cat's head fell into the dirt, leaving her with a dislocated shoulder and matching gash along her arm and the wolf with a nasty set of claw marks right across his face.

Cleaning them up was a painful process and finding a place to spend the night was even worse but they somehow managed. The cave was more of shallow indentation, but it was as good a place as could be found. She sat with her back to cold stone while warm wolf fur draped itself across her thighs.

Night fell and her wolf suddenly stood up and walked a little ways away. He sat on his haunches, tipped his head back, and howled. The sound was unlike anything she had ever heard before – nothing like a normal wolf's song – it was wild, angry, sorrowful, and full of longing.

"It's sad isn't it?"

Her gaze flew from her wolf to the unknown voice.

It was the woman from her first dream, but now her veil was down, showing off lovely features. She was dressed in a practical skirt and cradled a bundle in her arms. With a jolt, Julietta recognized the strange golden eyes gleaming in the woman's face and in the face of the baby that made up the bundle.

They were the same color as the wolf's.

And…

"Raph?"

*********************************

"Raph?"

"What? Julietta, it's me, Angela."

Indeed it was – the young woman was bundled up in a huge coat and ridiculously big boots. "What do you want?"

"It's time for dinner."

She stood up with a sigh and gathered her belongings.

When they arrived at the dinner table fifteen minutes, Zoey wasted no time.

"Will you sing –"

Julietta cut her off. "One song. You get one request."

She caught Raph's smirk and kicked him under the table.

I _do_ have standards after all, she thought to herself, smirking at the angry turtle across from her.

And felt strangely gratified when he kicked her back with another smirk.

***********************************

Vittoria dusted her hands off. "Man, I am good."

**REVIEW!!!!!**


	28. Deduction

**Okay, my proofreaders are out for the summer just like me and their slow email advice is getting on my nerves big time. Can anyone recomend a good Beta Reader for me for the summer? **

**Anyway, this has not been proofed so please excuse any mistakes you find!**

**But review please!**

Chapter 27

Deduction

"_I know that song! Mama sings that song to us all the time!"_

"_And she's the bestest singer ever!!!"_

"_What happened after that?"_

Gwen hummed as she made her way back to her room after morning practice for a bath. Turning down a small corridor, she took a shortcut and quickly came upon a back flight of stairs.

Just as she reached the next floor, a strange voice reached her ears.

"I believe you all owe me forty gold pieces. Each."

The young woman immediately stopped in her tracks. She didn't recognize the voice or those that answered it.

"I cannot believe you pulled that off!"

"Kudos to you!"

"Exactly how are we supposed to pay you? Ghosts don't carry money."

Fully curious, Gwen peeked around the corner. Nothing.

"Hello? Is someone here?"

"Shut up! Listen," hissed one of the voices.

"Who's there?"

"Damn it! It's Gwen."

"Do you think she can hear us?"

"No Rachel," came a sarcastic voice. "She's just picked up the habit of talking to thin air."

"Oh, well, isn't that a bad sign? I mean, hearing voices is never good."

"Rachel, honey, what Tori means to say is that Gwen can hear us."

The sharp sarcastic voice sounded about ready to tear her invisible hair out. "Then what the hell are we still hanging around here for?"

Gwen seemed to be standing in the middle of the disembodied voices. "Please, who are you? What are you? What are you doing here? Why can't I see you? How-"

A lighter voice laughed brightly. "So many questions! No wonder he likes you so much."

"Shut up, Mary," snapped the sharp voice.

"That's enough, Vittoria," ordered a cool, authoritative voice.

"We're ghosts!" explained a cheerful, friendly voice.

Gwen looked around at the hall. Each of the voices seemed to be female and whatever – or whoever – they were coming from was invisible. "Ghosts? As in… the dead?"

"Yup!" Cheerful said brightly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can't dead women hang around and see how the living live?" Sarcastic asked.

"Ummm… I suppose." She had no clue how to handle this. "Am I going insane?"

Gentle voice laughed. "Don't worry about that. The insane never think they're going crazy. They think they're getting saner. You are completely sane."

"Well not completely," Sarcastic butted in. "You're falling in love with a giant turtle. That doesn't say much for you."

"What's wrong with that?" Gwen demanded, suddenly irritated. "I like him! He's a very nice person and I don't think it's right for you to be –"

"Whoa! Whoa! I was only kidding, squirt."

"Anyway," Authoritative voice said. "I believe that it is time that we left you and joined our husbands."

"Wait, what?"

A strange feeling swept over her, almost as though she was being caught up in a flock of the most delicate butterflies ever.

When the odd sensation was gone, the voices were gone.

"Wow. That was weird."

********************************

Gwen was pulling a simple, though elegant, woolen dress over her head when there was a knock on her door.

"Just a moment!"

"Gwen, it's Zoey!"

"Come in!"

The younger girl opened the door.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked, shocked by the look on her usually vibrant friend's face.

Zoey's normally pink face was pale and her brow was hopelessly wrinkled. She twisted her skirt in her hands. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh?"

"Of course I won't laugh!"

"Or think I'm crazy?"

"I promise to take you completely seriously, Zoey. Now what is it?"

"Well…" Zoey desperately chewed on her lower lip – a sure sign of stress. "I was walking to my room… and I saw something."

Immediately, Gwen's thoughts swung over to the strange voices. "What did you see?"

"Well, I've always been able to see spirits – like dead people? – ever since I was little. I've been seeing them a lot more in this place but it was always just the same person. A lady in a yellow dress with blond hair and blue eyes. But today, I saw a whole group of them. There were almost ten of them!"

"What did they look like? Were there only women?"

Shake of the head. "No, each of the ladies had a guy with them. They didn't really look anything alike."

"What were they saying?"

"I can only see the ghosts; I can't hear what they're saying. But they all looked really happy and they waved at me."

"Were there about four women?"

"Uh-huh. Two blondes, one with brown hair and one with black hair."

"Could you draw them?"

"Uh-huh!" Zoey stood up, then paused and looked at her shyly. "So you do believe me?"

"I've been hearing things myself. Four women's voices spoke to me earlier today, telling me that they were ghosts. When they left, they said they were going to meet with their husbands."

Zoey's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "You hear dead people!?"

"And you see dead people. So will you draw them, or what?"

"Hold on! Let's go to my studio. There's more light in there."

***********************************

An hour later, Zoey was carefully dragging her paintbrush across the canvas, tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration.

"Are you finished yet?" Gwen asked, hovering around the easel.

"Stop rushing me! I'm almost finished… there!" The artist turned her work around with a flourish. "Not my best work, but it'll have to do."

If this wasn't her best work, Gwen would have loved to see her best work. Four beautiful women were speaking and laughing with four handsome men.

"Holy shit."

"Julietta!"

There in the doorway of the art room stood Julietta and Angela, the gypsy outright gaping at the painting while the noblewoman scowled in disapproval at her companion's vocabulary.

"Who are they?" Julietta demanded, half running towards them, her great dark eyes wide.

"Just… people…" Zoey said quickly.

"From where?"

"Why do you want to know?" Gwen asked.

"Just curious," she muttered, never taking her eyes from the painting.

"Alright," Angela said flatly. "What is going on here?"

"It's nothing, Angie."

"Don't lie to me, Gwen. You all are acting very strangely over these people, now please explain."

The young woman wrung her hands and exchanged nervous glances with Zoey and Julietta. The acrobat seemed perfectly willing to tell Angela, while Julietta seemed dead set against it.

"Okay," she said at last, perching on a stool. "Well, this morning I was going to my room when I heard strange voices. When I went to see what they were, I couldn't see what was talking but I could tell they were right where I was looking.

"When I asked them what they were, they told me they were ghosts. Apparently they've been hanging around the castle. Then they left to go find their husbands – at least that's what they told me."

"And then," Zoey picked up. "I was just walking through the castle when I saw this group of ghosts coming down the hall –"

"How do you know they were ghosts?" Angela asked, clearly skeptical.

"I've always been able to see them. Lately, I've been seeing this girl –" she pointed to one of the painted faces "- around the castle a lot. She's actually the one who led me inside when I first got here. It was like she wanted me to come inside.

"And then two months ago when we went into the throne room, she started pointing me towards it. She really wanted me to go inside.

"This morning was the first time I ever saw her when she wasn't alone. She was with all of these people."

"What were they saying?" Angela wanted to know.

"I can't hear them. I've only ever been able to see them – never hear them."

"And these two," Julietta said sharply. "You saw them too?" She pointed to two dark-skinned people in the painting who could only be gypsies.

"Yeah," Zoey said. "What about them?"

"Nothing."

"Julietta? Do you know something about these people?"

The girl did not look at them, choosing instead to stare out the window.

"Julietta?"

"I've… dreamt about that woman a few times."

Angela now looked extremely interested. "What do you mean?"

"A couple of nights before I came here, I dreamt that I met this woman in the woods. She set this wolf on me that eventually became my friend. He's always with me whenever I'm dreaming."

"What else?" Gwen asked, fascinated.

"I dreamt about her about a week ago. She just came up to me holding this little baby and asked me something… can't remember what she asked me though."

"And you're sure that this is her?"

"Positive. And did you notice that the man she's with looks just like one of the guys in that painting?"

She did not specify which painting and she didn't need to.

Angela sank down gracefully onto a hard bench and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "This is strange."

"You know…" Zoey said thoughtfully. "I've heard that ghosts can do lots of cool stuff to living people."

"Yes," Julietta agreed solemnly. "We gypsies believe that the spirits of those who have passed on can sometimes be seen and heard by those gifted with an openness of mind. It is also believed that they can influence peoples' dreams."

There was a long silence in which each of them turned to stare at Zoey's painting.

"They do look a whole lot like the guys in the painting, don't they?" Zoey commented.

"Yes. But what does all of this mean?" Gwen said quietly.

"It means that we're here for a reason," Angela said seriously.

"But for what purpose?"

"Do you think…" Zoey muttered. "This has something to do with –"

"_GWEN!"_

The four girls all jumped as Donny barreled into the room.

"_Come quick! You will never believe this!"_

The curious young woman leapt to her feet and ran after her friend, begging for further information.

"Gwen!" Julietta yelled, going after her. "Get your ass back here!"

But the moment was ruined.

*************************

It turned that Donny had seen weird things darting about in Gwen's blood and as soon as she took a good look at them in the microscope any interest she had in what was going on in the castle immediately took a backseat to her research.

Julietta had left them to go after Gwen and was sidetracked by the sight of Mikey holding her music box and shaking it energetically. "_What the hell are you doing?!"_

This effectively reduced the number of thoughtful girls to two.

"What were you saying, Zoey?" Angela asked, staring at the door in confusion.

"Umm…" a nervous smile. "I forgot!"

The noblewoman sighed and looked at the painting again. "They look happy, don't they?"

"Uh-huh. Who do you think they were?"

"I don't know. But I intend to find out what is going on here."

**REVIEW!!**


	29. Close Shave

**Holy crap. 100 REVIEWS!!! I just about passed out! WOO-HOOO!**

**Thanks to Rhoda J, my 100th reviewer and all you other reviewers.**

**Anyway - in these next few chapters the plot is really going to get going!!**

Chapter 28

Close Shave

_"OOOO! They almost got it!"_

_A light chuckle came from the doorway. "They were a little slow, weren't they?"_

_"Shush! Daddy, you're ruining the story!!"_

Winter passed and soon it was early March.

Julietta's February birthday passed with a banquet filled with delicious, strange food – some of which was so spicy that anyone who dared to try even one bite was subjected to five minutes of gulping down cup after cup of drink.

Angela found herself swept up in the snowball fights she had scorned a year ago, laughing and screaming as she threw the icy projectiles. Zoey had complained and wheedled for a full thirty minutes – pointing out that winter was almost over and this was probably the last snow that they would see until next winter and Angela had finally hurled a snowball simply to shut her up. By the end of it, she and the other girls were wet, cold, and happy, and her hair stood on end.

The guys found them huddled around the fireplace in the family room, and teasing and joking ensued.

"I've never seen your hair so crazy," Leo commented with a small smile, tugging gently on a particularly errant strand of gold.

She looked up at him wryly. "I wanted to keep it that way, actually."

"Why? It's refreshing to see that you can look off balance once in a while."

"I'm off balance during morning practice."

"Looking mildly surprised when Raph is barreling towards you doesn't count as looking off balance."

"Leo's right, Angie," Zoey chirped from where she was sitting with Mikey. "When I first got here, you were like an icicle – really pretty and really cold."

She was startled and rather hurt. "I'm cold?"

"Not anymore." Leo gently brushed a few strands out of her face. "You've thawed out."

Her cheeks flushed and she found she could not look away from the dark eyes. "Is that a good thing?"

His smile was gentle and very… she suddenly wished that her hair wasn't such a mess.

"Definitely."

********************************

The next day the sun was out – and not a weak winter sun. That was definitely strong spring sunlight streaming into the gardens, lighting up the snow until it glowed brightly.

"Spring is almost here!" Zoey sang, skipping through the melting snowdrifts. "You know what that means, doncha?"

"Flowers?" Gwen asked as she made her way through the slush more carefully.

"Nope! The last snowball fight of the year!" The irrepressible young woman grabbed her friend's slender hand and tugged her out into the yard. Catching sight of several familiar forms, Zoey waved merrily at them. "Angie! Julie! Raph! Donny! Mikey! Come play with us!"

"Play what?" Donny asked rather suspiciously.

"A snowball fight!"

"I'm good," Raph declared immediately.

"What's amatter, Raphie?" Julietta said with a wicked smirk. "Afraid of a little slush?"

The turtle scowled darkly at her. "In case you've forgotten, turtles don't like the cold."

She scoffed and opened her arms to the sun. "You call this cold?"

"Yeah. I do." Without another word, he turned and stalked away towards the castle, his protective cloak billowing around him.

"I think I'll pass too," Donny said quietly.

"Do you have to, Don?" Gwen asked sadly.

"Sorry, Gwennie, but those samples need to be preserved."

"That's right! Do you need any help?"

"No, that's alright." He smiled gently at her. "I'll come down as soon as I can."

The two smiled gently at each other – momentarily forgetting that they were surrounded by friends.

It was only when Zoey giggled and Julietta and Angela exchanged knowing smiles that the moment ended.

"Well. Ummm… I'll see you guys around. Bye, Gwen."

"Bye, Don."

Gwen watched as her… friend… walked across the lawn, up the steps, and into the castle.

"You've got it bad," Julietta commented.

"Got what bad?" Mikey wanted to know.

"Spring fever."

"Spring fever? What's that?"

"What people get in spring," the gypsy said flatly. "Now are we going to do this fight or what?"

"I want to play –" Mikey began to say.

_Whap_

A ball of melting snow hit him in the side of the head and he fell over in the snow.

"Attack the turtle!!!!"

They spent the next hour hurling snowballs at each other.

Zoey laughed and dove behind a snow drift to avoid a barrage of ice projectiles from Julietta and Mikey were lobbing at her. Keeping her head down, the young woman took a look around her position, trying to find a better hiding spot. It wasn't easy, considering so much of the surrounding landscape was covered in low snow mounds; there was nothing big enough to hide behind –

Wait!

There was a decent sized mound just a few yards away from her. It offered a better vantage point of the battle and definitely a better place to throw snowballs at everyone.

It was perfect.

Why hadn't anyone else tried to claim it?

No matter.

She sidled away from her shelter and bolted for the better snowdrift.

"Whoa, Zoey! Hold on!"

Zoey ignored Gwen's warning and went straight for the –

_Crash_

She wasn't sure what had just happened but suddenly it felt like she had been punched in the chest. She was abruptly terribly cold and was unable to breathe.

There was light above her – but it was too high to reach.

What was happening?

She was underwater.

How was she underwater?

She needed to get out of the water.

But it was too far and she didn't know how to swim.

Her hands reached for the light and…

What was that?

Someone was in the water with her.

There was another…

What…?

Her chest burned even as the two familiar strangers grabbed her and…

And…

***********************************

He had never been as scared as several minutes ago when he had turned to see Zoey crashing down through the rotten ice. He and the other girls had sprinted across the yard to the frozen pond, ready to fish their friend out of the water.

Gwen took one look into the water and said she would get Donny. "He'll know what to do!"

Angela and Julietta had an immediate argument over who would go in and get her.

"Your skirt's too heavy, Angela. You'd be dragged down. Just wait here and help Mikey get her out."

"I'm going in!" he said, stepping towards the ice, only to be firmly shoved back by Julietta even as she leapt into the water.

"No, Mikey," Angela said quickly, removing her cloak. "Your body won't handle the cold as well as Julietta's will."

Mikey knew she was right. Knew that if he tried to go after Zoey his body could go into shock. But this was ZOEY!!

Julietta suddenly surfaced with a gasp. "She's caught on something. Mikey. Get your green ass down –"

He didn't even wait for her to finish the sentence before he leapt in.

The water was horrifically cold, but he barely noticed as he shoved past Julietta to dive beneath the water.

It took less than a moment for him to catch sight of Zoey, her body was relaxing and her eyes were drifting shut. With two powerful kicks, he swam over to her slim body and dragged her loose from the old branches she had tangled herself in. He barely noticed when Julietta grabbed her arms and helped pull her to the surface.

They burst from the water to find themselves looking up at Angela, Gwen, Raph, Leo, Donny, and Master Splinter.

Mikey heaved Zoey out of the water and felt the oddest surge of anger when Leo took her gently in his arms. Raph pulled Julietta out of the water with a powerful yank and then he and Donny pulled Mikey out.

It was only when he saw Gwen lean over Zoey for a moment and then lean back as the young acrobat coughed painfully did Mikey look over the others. They all looked serious and slightly shaken. Julietta was shivering badly and had a shallow cut on her forehead, dripping blood down her face and into her eye.

Master Splinter took one look at it all and said, "Come, my sons. Girls. Miss Zoey needs immediate attention and some warm blankets would not be amiss for Michelangelo or Julietta either."

************************************

Zoey woke up in her room with her friends around her bed. "What happened?"

"You fell through the ice," Mikey offered quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmm… yeah. A little dizzy and I – achoo! – feel cold."

"You're probably going to have a cold in the next few days," Gwen said, sitting on the edge of her bed. She placed a hand on her forehead. "Is your nose stuffy?"

"A little… who pulled me out?"

"Me and Mikey," Julietta answered.

"Julie! What happened to your head?!"

The gypsy brushed her fingers sheepishly against the bandage on her forehead. "I hit my head on the ice."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not the one who almost drowned."

"I was drowning?"

"Yup. Anyway, you're out and alright and that's all that really matters."

"She's right," Leo said firmly. "It's a good thing she and Mikey got you out as fast as they did or you'd have been in real trouble."

"Now." Master Splinter stepped forwards. "Let us leave Miss Zoey alone to rest. You may join us for dinner if you're feeling better by then, Miss Zoey. Come along everyone."

Zoey watched as her friends obediently filed out. All except for one.

"Michelangelo?"

The orange-banded turtle shuffled his feet nervously. "I need to talk with Zoey for a second, Sensei. I'll be out in a bit."

Splinter nodded quietly. "Do not be too long, my son. Remember that she needs rest."

"I will, Sensei."

The door closed and for the longest time neither Zoey nor Mikey spoke, unable to do anything else but stare at each other. Then, all at once, he rushed across the room and threw his arms around her.

Before she could process what was happening, her friend had jerked her away from himself and stared at her with a strange look in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Mikey?"

"You could have died. You almost did…"

"But I didn't. See? I'm alright."

He sank down on her mattress and slumped. "I know. But… what if we hadn't gotten there in time? You could have died. And I would've…"

Zoey kicked off her blanket and scooted over to sit beside him. "It wasn't your fault, Mikey. You know that, right? I'm the one who forgot about the pond and I'm the one who fell in. It wasn't your fault. Okay?"

He didn't look at her, keeping his eyes on his knees. "I'm glad that you're okay."

"So am I!" She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Mikey, you're my best friend and I know you did your best to save me and you did. Don't be mad at anyone, especially not yourself."

His arm snaked around her slender shoulders and he gave her a weak smile. "I don't think I'd ever be okay if something ever happened to you."

She straightened up and looked at him outright confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I – I think I might… well, I think I love you…"

For a full moment, Zoey's heart seemed to freeze. Did he really mean that? What if he just meant it as being friends and she tried to act like he loved her loved her and ruined everything? What if… what if…?

Zoey giggled. "Of course you do! We're best friends!" She pressed her cheek to his affectionately. "I love you more than anyone else. And if I have to stay here the rest of my life, I'd rather marry you than anyone else here."

Mikey's green skin flushed.

Smiling, Zoey turned away from him, just missing the sudden look of stricken unhappiness that flashed across her friend's face.

"Well, see you later, Z."

"Bye Mikey."

He got off the bed and walked to the door.

A sudden thought hit her. "And Mikey?"

"Yeah?" he stopped and turned and looked at her.

She gave him her best smile. "Thank you for saving my life. And tell Julie, too."

He returned her smile with the grin she loved. "Later, Z."

The door closed. Zoey stayed quiet for a moment, listening to him as he moved away from the door.

Only when she could no longer hear his footsteps did she throw herself back with a groan. "'We're best friends!'? Why couldn't I say what I meant? Argh!"

*****************************

Rachel and David leaned against the door of the young acrobat's room.

"You were right," he said in surprise.

She grinned and kissed him. "I thought you'd have realized by now. I'm always right."

"Yeah right."

**Just as a reminder - David is Mikey's father. Anyway, please REVIEW!!**


	30. Flowers and Announcements

**Alrighty, this is really very sappy but I worked hard on it. Promise all of you, the action will come next chapter. I swear!!**

**ENJOY!**

Chapter 29

Flowers and Announcements

It took another two weeks for the snow to all melt because of stubborn frosts. Gwen had her birthday banquet and they stuffed themselves until past midnight and on the last day of April Zoey turned seventeen, earning them all another banquet of the birthday girl's favorite sweets.

Julietta again began going out at the crack of dawn to look after the horses, usually accompanied by Raph. Angela and Leo could be found at sunrise under the willow tree meditating – the noblewoman had become quite adept at it over the past year – or sparring lightly. Zoey and Mikey ran wild through the fields after lunch, dreaming up pranks even as they charged screaming through the daisies. It was not uncommon to find Donny and Gwen on a bench comparing notes on something or even just reading a book together.

None of this escaped Splinter or the mothers of his sons.

"This is going very well," the Lady said.

"Well?" repeated Mary, clasping her hands together happily. "It's going wonderfully!"

Rachel chewed her lip as she watched her son give Zoey swimming lessons in the pond. "I wish they wouldn't be so… shy around each other."

"Shy?" Mary repeated.

"She means that they're both to afraid to really tell each other that they're in love with each other because they're afraid it'll screw up their friendship," Vittoria explained.

"How can you tell all that?"

The gypsy waved a hand carelessly. "I've seen it a hundred times."

"Is that what's happened with Julietta and Raph?" Rachel asked, going over to watch Julietta mount up on the wild black horse Demonio while Raph held the halter firmly.

"Nah, their problem is that they're both so freaked out by each other that they don't want the other to get close."

"Julietta and Raph are afraid of each other?"

"Kinda. See, Raph is still way too insecure about the way he happens to look and now he's met a girl he is seriously attracted to who doesn't give a rat's ass about how he looks and can argue and fight with him. It is scaring him out of his mind to feel this way about anyone, especially when he thinks that she'll reject him because of how he looks at any given moment.

"Julietta on the other hand is used to men either trying to get under her skirt or just being friends. But with Raph she's feeling something else – something that isn't quite anger, frustration, or friendship – and it's confusing her. She doesn't know how to deal with the attraction that she's feeling to him so she's trying to treat him the same way she'd treat the others but her feelings are interfering with that."

Mary and Rachel gaped at her.

"What?"

"How can you tell all that so easily?" Mary asked in awe.

"I've only been watching them fight and argue for almost ten whole months. It'd be pathetic if I couldn't tell what was going on between them."

"So what're you going to do about it?"

"I've done about as much as I can do. The rest is going to have to come from them. What they need is a good kick in the ass to remind themselves why they like each other in the first place, or at least realize that this limbo between friendship and whatever can't last forever."

"How long did it take you to realize that you loved Gianni?"

Vittoria smiled nostalgically. "Another girl started making eyes at him. I took one look at that and knew I didn't like it. Couple of weeks later I figured out I was in love with the idiot."

"What happened to the girl?"

"Her skirt caught on fire."

"Nothing to do with you, I'm sure," the Lady said dryly.

"Of course not," Vittoria said in an innocent tone that fooled no one. "But what about your boy and Angela? It's obvious that Donny and Gwen'll be confessing love to each other any day now."

"They are definitely perfect for each other," Mary agreed happily.

The Lady was quiet for a moment before answering. "They're falling in love. But it is very slow and gentle. Neither Leo nor Angela want to rush into anything, but they find themselves drawn to each other."

"Why do I think that if the boys were human there'd be wedding bells by now?" Rachel wondered.

"Actually, I'm not sure that's entirely true," the Lady said quietly. "But it doesn't matter now."

"You know…" Mary said slowly. "That party at Christmas really did wonders making them realize how they felt about each other. Maybe another banquet wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"It isn't," the Lady murmured thoughtfully. "We should speak to Master Splinter about having another one."

"What for?" Rachel pointed out. "You can't just have a random party, it'd be kinda suspicious."

"What suspicious?" Vittoria rolled her eyes. "The guys know that they have to get the girls to fall in love with them for the spell to break."

"Splinter should still come up with a reason for a party… maybe even a dance."

"A dance?"

"That's perfect."

"It really is."

"So it's settled. We suggest it to Splinter tonight."

********************************

A sharp whinny and an accompanying yelp attracted Donny, Gwen, Angela, Leo, Mikey, and Zoey's attention and everyone turned as Demonio gave a sudden, sharp buck. Julietta desperately tried to cling to his broad, black back but it was too late and she was thrown into the air.

For a split second she felt the strange weightlessness of flying and falling before she crashed into something warm and solid that grunted and fell back beneath her. She opened her eyes to see Raph cradling her protectively against his chest. Abruptly she was reminded of that day over a month ago that he had bandaged up the cut she had gotten getting Zoey out of the water. He had carefully cleaned and bandaged her up, but when it was over neither had moved.

Her heart had thumped painfully against her ribs and it had taken everything she had to turn away and make some biting comment that wiped the strange look from his eyes and replaced it with sharp annoyance and enjoyment.

Somewhere in the past few months, they had managed to go from dark angry arguments to lighter banter that could pass as angry bickering to anyone else. If anything, both of them now fully took pleasure in their verbal spars.

"Relax Raph," she said, tearing her eyes away from his and trying to ignore her dry mouth. "I'm alright."

He shoved her away and to her feet. "Dunno… You've been a real klutz lately."

She snarled at him. "Better clumsy than fat."

"If any of this," he thumped his broad chest, "Was fat, you'd have beaten me already."

"I have beaten you already. Twice."

"And I've beaten you… how many times?"

"Shut up. Don't you know how to treat a lady?"

"Sure. But Angie's not here. The only one around is you."

Her dark eyes glittered dangerously. "And I'm not a lady?"

"'Course not. You're a gypsy."

"And you're not a man. You're just a turtle."

He gritted his teeth even as his mind rushed for a good comeback. "A turtle that's been kicking your ass."

"For now." With that, she turned her back on him and marched to Demonio who was standing on the far side of the paddock, watching her suspiciously.

***********************************

Master Splinter sighed contentedly as he watched his sons and guests laze about the pond, enjoying the spring sunshine.

His tail twitched as he thought of his dream last night. The four women had suggested announcing a ball on some pretext or another.

The pretext was not what worried him. The nine hundredth and ninety-ninth anniversary of the kingdom – something certainly worth a ball – would be next month on May 7th. He would simply blame this ball on that and the fact that there were now enough to guests to properly celebrate such an important event. The main problem would be getting through the night.

He winced at the memory of the boys' dance lessons. At the age of eight, he had decided that it was time for the young princes to learn simple court dances. It had been very painful for the instructors the first few lessons. Only by the third lesson had the boys gained any semblance of grace – though their antics earned them the title of the prime entertainment in the palace after lunch. No one in the castle missed a single chance to watch the young princes stumble through a dance lesson.

To be fair, they had improved quite nicely. Leonardo was the most graceful, easily moving his partner around the dance floor smoothly. All of his partners had gushed over his skill. Raphael was the fastest and… most passionate. More than one girl had come away from dancing with him redfaced and gasping, whimpering how they needed to find the bathroom. Splinter supposed it was because of his gypsy blood. Donatello was by far the most gentle partner and was generally the favorite prince for the all the newer and shyer dancers attending the balls. Michelangelo was… well, he could dance formally. He just chose not to. His first ball had been a complete disaster; he had grabbed his partner's hands and started swinging the poor girl around as though they were a village barn dance rather than a formal ball.

Extremely amusing to watch though it had not been fun trying to reason with the girl's livid father. But both his son and his partner had loved dancing together and that was all that really mattered at the age of nine.

He had little doubt that Angela would know how to dance; she had been raised to be the perfect lady. The perfect noblewoman. The perfect wife. She would undoubtedly be familiar with every single dance move created in the past twenty years.

Julietta… Julietta would know gypsy dances. Convincing her to attend the ball and then learn the proper dances would difficult. Very difficult.

Gwen probably wouldn't know many court dances. Knowing her however, she would be eager to learn and dance.

And Zoey would join Michelangelo in his wild hopping dance and laugh all the while. He wasn't worried about her.

The boys would do as he asked, he knew, but he made a mental note to remind them exactly how a prince offered himself as an escort to a young lady. Turtles or no turtles, curse or no curse, they were still princes and still should remember their manners.

He went down the steps, heading towards the eight young friends.

*********************************

Gwen twirled a bit of grass between her fingers as she lay sleepily in the grass beside Donny. It was unusually warm out today – warm enough for her to wear one of her favorite sundresses, a simple knee length lavender dress with a modest V-neck, no sleeves, and a ribbon sash around her waist – and she was loving every minute of it.

"It is such a nice day today, isn't it?" Zoey murmured from where she was lying, sprawled on her front and her elbows propping up her chin on Mikey's plastron as the turtle snoozed.

"It really is," Leo agreed contentedly, staring out across the pond to the orchards.

"Everyone?"

The only ones who didn't jump were Mikey, who was asleep, and Julietta, who was also asleep.

"Master!" Leo gasped. "Where did you come from?"

"Where do you think, Fearless?" Raph said, his voice lacking any real venom.

"I have a very important announcement. Miss Zoey, Raphael, if you would please wake Michelangelo and Miss Julietta?"

With intense amusement, Gwen and the others watched as Zoey shook her sleeping best friend. "Wakie, wakie, Mikey!!! Come on, get up!"

Despite her rather brutal actions, Mikey took his sweet time waking up.

She quickly glanced over towards Raph to make sure he wasn't trying anything rough with Julietta – she could just see Julietta diving at him for interrupting her nap. Raph shook the young woman's slender shoulder gently.

"Julie? Wake up."

Julietta winced and tried to reburrow her head beneath her slender arms. "G'way…"

"Julietta! Get up!"

The gypsy sat up so sharply that she sent Raph falling backwards onto his ass.

*************************

"What is it, Sensei?" Leo asked.

Angela was wondering that herself.

The rat folded his arms behind his back. "As Leonardo and his brothers know, next month will be the nine hundredth and ninety-ninth anniversary of… this castle's construction. I do believe this warrants a ball."

Angela sat up straighter in disbelief.

"You mean like at Christmas?" Zoey asked, cocking her head curiously.

"No, that was a banquet. A ball requires dancing."

"As in long dresses and slow dances?"

"Yes, Julietta. That kind of ball."

"No way in hell."

"She's right, Sensei," Raph agreed. "She'd end up tripping all over her dress and killing her partner."

The gypsy snarled at him. "Fine. I'll go."

Raph grinned at the others. "You just need to know how to sweet talk her."

This earned him a slap upside the head.

"As I was saying," Splinter continued reprovingly. "I hope you all will attend. Ladies, this is the favor I ask of you for last year."

Angela shifted uncomfortably, remembering how she had disobeyed his orders.

"What happened last year?" Leo asked.

"Why are you turtles?" she asked, sharper than she intended.

That shut him up, but she felt horribly guilty for snapping at him.

"As for you, boys, I expect you to remember your manners and request the honor of the girls' presence as you were taught."

"What?" Mikey gasped. "Like with the… and the…? Ah, man!!"

"What is it?" Zoey asked with interest.

Angela leaned forward interestedly. Did Splinter mean the proper way to ask a girl to a ball? She had learned what was expected from the different levels of society – and wondered where the guys fell in that hierarchy. There were specific guidelines for peasants, artisans, traders, businessmen, knights, noblemen, and princes. And she happened to know all of them.

Maybe this would give her further clues to figure out what was going on here.

Ever since she had decided to find the mystery behind this place several months ago, she had been carefully keeping an eye out for hints and clues. There wasn't much to go on… there were the servants – which definitely raised an eyebrow – the stubborn perfection of the garden no matter what the season or weather, the women – Gwen still reported hearing snatches of conversation and Zoey often saw a transparent skirt go around a corner – the painting, and the guys themselves.

Were they…?

Could this place be under some kind of spell?

Angela nearly laughed out loud.

Spells?! Spells didn't exist! Her uncle had spent much of his free time disproving magicians' tricks and foolishness!

There was no such thing as magic.

_There's no such thing as giant walking, talking, talking turtles either,_ said a snide voice in the back of her head. _Ones that can talk and laugh and joke. One that you're falling in love with –_

She shook her head to dislodge the annoying thought. "Shut up!"

"What?" Leo asked, meeting her eye.

"Nothing."

He eyed her carefully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. I'm alright."

"Well… okay. I've gotta go. I'll meet you back here in an hour, okay?"

"Alright," she smiled at him. "I'll be waiting."

_OOOOO! You got it bad!!_ Hissed the voice again as Leo strode away.

Holding back a scowl, Angela looked up at the sky, trying to pretend she couldn't hear the accursed voice singing: _Leo and Angie, sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_

This was going to be a long day.

*******************************

The hour was almost over. The others had left her to go do other things, Gwen and Donny off to study in the library, Julietta off to check on the horses, Raph had gone after her ten minutes later with the muttered excuse to go and see Demonio, and Mikey and Zoey had run off to continue their swimming lessons. But still she sat on the edge of the pond, waiting.

"Angela?"

Leo came trotting towards her, holding something carefully in his hand.

"I have something for you," he said, sinking down to sit beside her.

"What is it?" she craned her neck to see what he had behind his back.

He raised a hand to her courteously. "Lady Angela, it would give me great pleasure if you would allow me to escort you to the ball next month."

Whenever a prince asked a lady of noble birth to allow him to be her escort, he offered said girl his hand and she politely placed her hand into his and said:

"What reason do you give me for accepting your proposal, my lord?" Angela asked, laying her slender hand into his.

And then the prince offered…

Leo offered her a bouquet of dark blue irises. "I offer you these."

It was then at this point that the lady either took the flowers if she accepted the offer or refused them if she didn't.

Angela carefully took extended her free hand and wrapped her fingers around the cool, fresh green stems. "I accept your offer, my Lord."

He grinned at her, released the flowers, and relaxed beside her.

She smiled back and buried her nose into the sweet smelling blossoms. "I was expecting roses."

"You like roses better?"

"It's not that," she hastened to assure him. "I really do love irises. It's just that when men offer women flowers, they usually go for roses. Red ones."

"Irises are symbols of faith, hope, wisdom, royalty, valor and admiration. I happen to think royalty and valor apply to you. And I admire you very much for it."

She ducked her head to hide the rising blush in her cheeks. _Irises are also a symbol for promise in love._

Shut up!

********************************

Zoey surfaced with splash and flipped herself on her back and floated contentedly. Ever since Mikey had taught her to swim, she had found she loved it as much as he did. Her skirt clung to her legs as she kicked and she happily arched her body through the waves.

Her arms swished through the water powerfully as she swam, closing her eyes to enjoy the calmness she felt in the water.

"Hey! Z!"

She righted herself.

Mikey was standing in the shallows – when had he left the water? – waving something in his hand energetically.

Curiosity piqued, she began swimming back toward the shore. "What is it?"

"You have to come over here!!"

She reached the shallow portion of the pond and splashed over to him. "What is it, Mikey?"

He showed her what he had been waving at her with. A bunch of yellow and white daisies.

"You said you like daisies the best, right?"

Squealing, Zoey took the dainty flowers and beamed down at them. "Yes, yes, yes! They're my favorite!"

"Um… good."

She blinked and looked at him, confused by his sudden nervousness. "What's wrong?"

"Well," he started to swing his arms back and forth and soon his body followed, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes – a sure sign he was anxious about something. "See… When a… a guy asks a girl to go with him to the ball… he's supposed to give her flowers and if she takes 'em… it means she wants to go with him."

His rocking quickened. "But you can keep them if you really want 'em. You don't have to say –"

She threw herself at him, her arms (plus the daisies that were still clutched in her fist) wrapped around his neck.

This time, his rocking was to keep them both from falling over, which he failed to do. They landed with a wet splat in the mud, but Zoey merely continued to laugh, saying, "Yes, yes, yes, yes!!! I'd love to go with you!!"

And now Mikey was laughing and whooping as much as she was, not seeming to mind at all that she was still sitting on his chest, cradling her miraculously unharmed daisies.

********************************

Gwen peered through the microscope at the leaves she had gathered that morning. But her mind wasn't really registering what she was seeing, even though she was scribbling down detailed notes.

Three days. It had been three days since Master Splinter had told them about the upcoming ball and Donatello had said nothing.

Did he just assume she was going to go with him without him asking her?

Did he really think she was that desperate – never mind the fact that she really was – did he really think that??

She wanted him to ask her.

It wasn't like she was asking for anything big or romantic – Zoey had gushed happily over the flowers Mikey had given her when he asked her to the ball and Angela had said that Leo too had asked her and given her flowers. Okay, some flowers would be nice.

But she wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't (okay, maybe a little disappointed), she just wanted to be asked…

The subject of her musings had left some time ago, saying that he had to go and retrieve something for an experiment he wanted to try and leaving her alone in the room.

Setting the microscope aside for a moment, Gwen stretched, wincing at the popping noises her spine was making in protest to being stuck in one position for so long.

She turned her head to check the clock and yelped when she came face to face with Donny. Jolting backwards, her incredible powers of balance sent her stool skittering back on the stone floor and then tipped the chair over.

With considerable more grace than she had just shown, the turtle leapt forward and grabbed her before she could hit the ground. "Gwen!"

She instinctively grabbed onto his arms and felt the stool slide out beneath her and land with a nasty crack on the ground. Finding her feet, she stood up and smiled brightly at her rescuer.

"Thank you. Sorry, I am such a klutz."

He chuckled as he released her. "If you were really a klutz, you would have shot yourself in the foot with one of your arrows by now."

She giggled and turned back to her notes.

And froze.

"They're orchids, do you like them?"

Gwen reached out and picked up the strange flowers. She had seen them in the gardens before and had commented on their beauty before but she hadn't even thought that Donny might be listening. And yet here they were, soft, fresh and a beautiful lavender color. "Yes… yes, I like them very much…"

"Um… Miss Gwen?" he croaked. "It would give me great pleasure if you would allow me to escort you to the ball next month."

She blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Did you just ask me to go to the ball with you?"

Now he was the one blinking. "Um… yes?"

"Really?" she asked incredulously.

His face was falling. "You don't want to go?"

She hugged the flowers to her breast and then gave him a fierce one-armed hug. "Of course I want to go. I just can't believe you're asking _me_." She pulled away and gave him her best smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

There was a moment of silence in which she smiled at him and he smiled at her.

After a while, her hazel eyes drifted down to gaze at the orchids. "Why orchids?"

Donny looked worried. "Those are your favorite, right? You were always saying how much you liked them so I thought –"

"They are my favorite. I'm just surprised that you remembered."

"Of course I remembered. I remember everything about you."

She flushed.

"Um! I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I did but –"

"You know, Donny. I think you're the only guy I have ever met who talks as much as me."

*********************************

Dancer was frisky today and was refusing to hold still long enough for Julietta to clean out her hooves.

Spitting out the tail that her horse had – once again – whipped into her face, the gypsy called out. "Raph?"

Silence.

"I know you're there! Get out here!"

There was another moment of silence, and then a green hand curled around the side of the stable and Raph looked inside.

"How'd you know I was there?"

She cocked her head at him and smirked. "I could hear you caring."

His eye ridges shot upwards. "Really. I thought I didn't care."

"You thought wrong," she said in an offhand tone. "Now do you want to give me a hand here?"

"Well…"

"That wasn't a request," she informed him sourly. "Get your shell over here and hold onto Dancer's halter."

He smirked, but entered the stall and took the filly's halter. The horse eyed him for a moment then seemed to give up on her mischievous dance.

"There's a good girl," he muttered, rubbing her nose approvingly.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Julietta gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart. "The great Raphael Hamato has a soft spot for horses?"

"I used to."

"Really? What – uh – changed?" she asked, grunting as she scraped at a particularly stubborn clump of dirt.

"Just… stuff."

"Wow… _stuff_. Could you _be_ anymore vague?"

His eyes hardened. "Why am I even talking to you about this?"

She looked at him blankly. "Don't know. You brought it up."

Off balance from her apparent lack of anger, he stammered for a moment. "You… I… I didn't… that is… never mind."

Dancer, taking notice of her holder's inattention, pranced and swished her tail. Julietta gasped and was knocked over onto her elbow, the pick spinning out of her hand.

"Ow! Raph! Damn it, why weren't you watching her?" she rubbed her throbbing arm.

"Sorry," he grunted, taking a firmer grip on the horse's halter. His eyes wandered over to her. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing. Just landed on it wrong."

Julietta reached for the pick and had to bite back a hiss of pain as her elbow protested the movement sharply. Stubbornly ignoring it, she snatched up the pick and continued cleaning out her horse's feet. Her injured joint expressed its displeasure viciously.

When she was finally – _finally_ – done, she tried to push herself up on her knee, but her elbow buckled and she sprawled back onto the hay.

"Whoa! Julie! Are you alright?" Raph demanded, releasing Dancer and hurrying around to crouch beside her.

"Fine," she gritted out. "Just fine!"

His amber eyes shot from her defiant face to her swelling elbow. "Sure, you are. That's why your arm looks like a snake that just swallowed a cat. Let me see your arm."

She pushed herself to her feet with her uninjured arm and attempted to go around him. "Screw off."

But he was bigger and stronger than she was and before she could do anything else, he grabbed her around the waist, tossed her over his shoulder and marched out of the stall, kicking it closed behind him.

Needless to say, Julietta was less than thrilled. _"DAMN YOU TO HELL YOU ACCURSED REPTILE! PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW! DID YOU HEAR ME?!!"_

Raph ignored her rant and her desperate struggle to get loose and tossed her onto the worn couch that stood on the end of the stable hall, in the small sitting room for the nonexistent stable hands.

"Ooof!"

Julietta snarled angrily and stood up. She tried to cross her arms across her chest but her elbow gave a particularly awful twinge and she cradled it to her chest.

Her adversary growled as he finished filling a bucket of water and went to block her way. "Sit back down."

"No."

"Damn it! Why are you so stubborn?"

"You're a fine one to talk."

He rolled his eyes. And abruptly struck her hard in the breastbone, knocking her back onto the couch. Julietta abruptly found herself trapped when he sat directly beside her and grabbed her injured arm. She scowled darkly at him as he dunked a cloth into the bucket and slapped the wet material onto her swollen elbow.

"Idiot jackass."

"Stubborn bitch."

But other than muttered insults, neither made any effort to cause more dissent. Raph wrapped up her arm in cool, damp bandages. Julietta reluctantly let him do it.

"Okay," he said at last. "I'm finished. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

"Good."

"Good."

They glared at each other – long enough for Julietta to be reminded that his eyes were just like the wolf's. This sudden realization made her draw her back a bit with a strange feeling of unease.

Surprised by her apparent retreat, Raph stood up swiftly. "Stay here for a second. I'll be right back."

She managed to find her tongue again even as he hurried away. "I swear, if you bring me a sling, I will knock that thick head off your shoulders!"

He didn't answer.

"Hmph," she scoffed to herself, standing up. "If he thinks I'm just gonna sit here and wait for him, he's a bigger idiot than I thought."

She strode to the stable door and pulled on it. It didn't budge.

"Not such an idiot then."

"You really thought I'd leave you alone after that?" Raph demanded, sliding the door open from the other side.

She refused to dignify that with an answer, though her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

All at once, he shoved something under her nose, green face flushing.

"Here. A – a rose. Take it. Will you – uh – come with me? To the ball thing?"

Julietta would later attribute what came next to shock and disbelief.

She took the rose from him and tucked it into her hair. "Sure."

He gaped at her.

"Gwen and Angie told me that Donny and Leo had a more formal way of asking for a lady."

A strange, sheepish smile she had never seen before stretched across Raph's face. "I couldn't remember the damn words. All I remembered was that you're supposed to offer the girl a flower she reminds you of."

"Reminds you of?"

The smile turned to a smirk. "Yeah. Hope you'll settle for roses, I couldn't find any thistles. By the way, here's your sling."

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Julietta hurling rocks at her escort, screeching.

*********************************

By the second week after his announcement, Master Splinter had received the news that his sons had asked – with varying levels of the appropriate manner – each of the girls to the ball. And each of the girls had said yes.

Splinter had not quite understood the significance of this asking the girls – it was quite obvious who was going to ask who – but the women had insisted. Now they were crowing that it had all paid off.

"Angela is suspecting that there is some kind of spell involved," the Lady said triumphantly. "She worries to herself whether she is falling in love with him or not and now that he has treated her so properly, she is wondering whether it would be so bad to love him back."

"Mikey and Zoey showed themselves to each other!" Rachel cried happily. "They didn't hide behind pranks or jokes! They were open!"

"They are so close!" Mary whispered jubilantly. "So close!"

The three women giggled and cavorted about, dreaming of their sons as human. But Vittoria sat a little ways away from this happiness.

"Lady Vittoria?" Splinter asked cautiously. "What is the matter?"

Her amber eyes smirked at him, even more smug than the smirk on her lips. "Do you know what putting a flower given to you by a man unrelated to you in your hair means, Master Splinter? In the gypsy custom?"

"No," he admitted.

"It means," she said. "That you accept him as your favored suitor. And that, Master Splinter, is a very good sign."

**Alright. Now. **

**REVIEW!!!!!!!!!! If enough of you push this little button and tell me what you think I can have the next chapter up tonight!! PUH- LEASE?????!!!!!**


	31. Intrusion

**Gotta love inspiration! Sorry in advance to all you Casey Jones lovers out there, but this had to be done to further the story!**

**Tell me what you think!!**

Chapter 30

Intrusion

"_They gave them flowers! That's so romantic!"_

"_That's sissy stuff!"_

"_Nu-uh!"_

"_Uh-huh!"_

"_Nu-uh!"_

"_Uh-huh!"_

"_What's with the yelling?"_

"_Come listen to the story, Daddy. It's really, really good!"_

Gwen hummed softly to herself as she fastened Willow's saddle snugly around the filly's strong back. Julietta had encouraged her to switch from riding bareback to riding with a saddle, which was a relief because she hadn't felt completely secure learning to ride on an untethered horse. Though she trusted both her teacher and her horse completely, it still felt odd. With a saddle, however, she felt much safer as Willow cantered.

"Are you ready, Gwen?" Zoey asked as she walked Rosie over.

Behind her was Angela and Julietta, each leading Lady and Dancer.

"Just about… There! I'm all ready."

She led Willow out of the saddling ring and mounted up. The others did the same and they rode out towards the meadows. They quickly passed through the gardens and then found themselves going through the high dandelions and grass that covered the hills that went between the gardens and the meadows.

After a few minutes of steady riding, Julietta – who was riding bareback and astride – called out, "What's with the weapons, Gwen?"

She looked self-consciously at the quiver she had tied to her saddle and then at the quiver that was slung over her shoulder. "I don't know… it just felt right to take them." She turned Willow closer to the others and beckoned to them. "That voice told me to take it. She said I might need it."

Julietta looked grim. "Last night I dreamt that someone met me and tried make me leave the wolf."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Angela asked.

"I don't know. But it felt like a bad omen."

The four exchanged glances and continued riding.

"I wonder why Mikey didn't give me roses like Raph gave Julie," Zoey commented after a while.

"Not roses," Julietta called. "Just _a_ rose."

"And anyway," Angela said. "When a prince asks for a girl to go with him to a ball, he gives the girl a flower that reminds him of her."

Zoey looked thoughtful. "So I'm not a rose?"

"Definitely not," Gwen shook her head. "A rose means… passion and beauty and a lot of thorns."

"That's our Julie!"

The gypsy narrowed her dark eyes. "The passion, the beauty, or the thorns?"

"All of them!" Zoey said blithely.

Gwen jumped in before Julietta could start snarling. "And a daisy means innocence and freedom, happiness, y'know?

"And that's definitely you."

By now they had reached the open meadows and were now galloping hard towards the parks, which were surrounded by white, wooden fences. Dancer reached the fence first and jumped over, followed by Lady, then Rosie, and lastly Willow.

"Nice form, Gwen!" Julietta shouted in approval.

"Thanks!"

"You know…" Angela said suddenly, pulling Lady to a stop. "I've been wondering about the way the guys asked us to go to the ball."

"What do you mean?" Zoey asked. "They were supposed to ask us and they did."

"No, it's the way they asked us."

"How'd they ask us?" Julietta inquired.

"They asked us like princes – or at least Leo did."

"What are you talking about, Goldilocks?"

Angela rearranged her horse's reins before answering. "When a prince asks a lady – or someone he sees as a lady – to go with him to a formal occasion, he offers her a flower that reminds him of her and says: 'Lady Something-or-Other, it would give me –"

"Great pleasure if you would allow me to escort you to the ball next month," she and Gwen finished together.

At her blond friend's surprised look, Gwen hastily explained, "Donny said the same thing to me."

"Well, there are several other things the prince should say after that, but most don't remember what comes next. Leo said everything."

"Maybe he is a prince," Zoey suggested. "Remember that painting we saw?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"Maybe they're the princes? Like in that old folk story where the princess kisses the frog and he turns into a prince?"

The others burst out laughing.

Zoey pouted. "What's so funny? If four giant turtles and a rat can live in a big castle with wind, water, fire, earth, and light servants, then what's so strange about four princes and a king and their castle being enchanted?"

Gwen wiped her eyes. "There's no such thing as magic, Zoey."

"There's no such thing as giant turtles, giant rats, ghosts, or wind servants either."

They were silent for a moment, but finally continued to trot along the edge of the park treeline. Finally at around midafternoon, they turned their horses back to the castle and began heading back.

"Are you really saying that gypsies don't believe in magic?" Gwen asked in surprise.

Julietta shrugged carelessly. "Not in the type of magic you're thinking of. We believe in the work of spirits and how they can influence the workings of this world."

"That's all?" Zoey complained. "My friend, Mistress Serenity, was a gypsy fortuneteller and she was always telling me to watch out for evil magicians."

"Well, there are stories about men and women who can harness the power of evil spirits and use them to put… curses on other people. But those are just old wives' tales."

"I wonder if that's how the guys were changed." Zoey was now convinced that the guys were the princes in the painting.

"Maybe."

None of the other girls seemed the slightest bit inclined to believe that the boys were under any type of spell and brushed off or ignored any of Zoey's attempts to discuss it.

"C'mon, you guys! At least admit that it is a possibility!"

"What possibility?" Angela said in exasperation. "You are suggesting that a king and his sons –"

"They were adopted!" Zoey inserted. "Wouldn't that explain why they're turtles and Master Splinter is a rat?"

"_That's enough!"_ Angela ordered at last, reining Lady in so hard that the filly reared up. "Zoey, if you are going to insist on pursuing this subject, I absolutely forbid you to speak of this in front of the boys and Master Splinter. Not one word or question to them, do you understand me? Whatever is going on here is their business."

"Then why have you been poking around the castle?"

The look on the noblewoman's face was such that the battle ready Julietta steered Dancer between Lady and Rosie. "Back off, both of you. No fights around here unless me or Raph are involved. Angela, put the death glare away, and Zoey, stop being such a pain in the ass. If the guys were under some kinda spell, they would've told us. 'Sides, Gwen's kissed Donny so many times that any kinda curse would be long gone by now."

The tension was immediately broken as Gwen went tomato red and Zoey and Angela dissolved into smiles and giggles.

When they finally got going again, Angela remarked, "You are a surprisingly good at putting down arguments, Julietta."

"Yeah, well, don't make me make this a habit. I'm still the Official Hell-Raiser of the Castle – well, the female Official Hell-Raiser of the Castle and I don't need any one trying to take that position away from me."

The four horses took the park fence in powerful leaps and began galloping back towards the castle. Julietta and Dancer, being the best rider and horse pair, were out in front, while the others were just behind them, Angela insisting on riding sidesaddle on Lady who was taking it all in stride, Zoey and Rosie charging along and deliberately splashing through puddles, and Gwen who had turned into quite an experienced rider. It took them another hour of light cantering to get back through the meadows and then another fifteen to cross over the hills and finally get to the stables.

It was now late afternoon.

"Mmm, I'm hungry," Zoey said, shifting and rubbing her stomach. "Wonder what's for dinner?"

"Something good hopefully."

"Look!" Angela hissed, pointing.

There, climbing the steps of the castle towards the huge doors, was a young man.

"Stop!"

At the sound of four female voices screaming at him, the stranger stopped and turned to look at them. He stepped down from the threshold of the palace as they rode over to him.

"Who are you?" he demanded sharply, taking in their fine horses, clean clothes and healthy appearances, his eyes lingering especially on Julietta.

"We live here, who are you?" Angela said, sitting tall on her horse and eyeing the man with the poise of a queen.

"I got lost."

"Got a name?" Julietta demanded, dark eyes cold.

"Do you?" he snarled, looking her up and down.

"Yup."

"And it is?"

"None of your business. What is your name?"

"None of your business." He grinned at her savagely.

"Actually, it is," Zoey piped up. "We live here. You don't."

The young man was tall and rather handsome with longish straight black hair and dark blue eyes. He had broad shoulders and a muscular physique. He also happened to look rather nonplussed by Zoey's argument.

"Alright…" he said reluctantly. "The name's Casey Jones. I got lost in the forest. I wanted to ask the people who live here where I am and if they could give me directions."

"I'm afraid we can't give you any," Gwen admitted softly.

"Why not?" he demanded hotly.

"Well," the young woman said nervously, leaning back a bit. "I don't think we know how to get out of here ourselves. Out of the forest, I mean."

"Don't you guys live here?"

"Yes," Angela answered. "But we never go outside the walls."

"Why not?"

"How's that any of your business?" Julietta snarled, dismounting and stomping over to stare him down.

For a moment, Casey Jones stared in outright shock at the gypsy maiden challenging him. His eyes went hungry and then angry. "What's the big secret?"

"What's all the yelling about you guys?"

Donny had arrived, with Raph peering over his shoulder. Both froze at the sight of the intruder.

The man spun and gave a strangled yelp. "Demons!"

"Where?" Zoey screeched whipping her head around to stare at her surroundings.

Jones pulled a huge club from a holster on his back and menaced the two startled turtles with it. "You girls've gotta come with me! This castle is infested with monsters!"

"Who are you callin' –" Raph began, trying to shove past Donny.

With a yell of "Demon Begone!", the intruder made to throw his club directly at them.

"_Don't even think about it!"_ came a sharp, unfamiliar voice.

Quickly, the man glanced over his shoulder.

And froze.

Gwen had an arrow ready, aimed straight at his head. "How dare you. Put that down right now!"

To anyone who didn't know her very well, her voice would have been filled with a wrathful shaking fury. To those who did know her very well, the tremble in her voice was not anger, but terrible fear. But, though her voice shook, her hand and arrow did not.

"Girl, these are demons. Why're you defending them?"

She didn't answer, merely kept her arrow trained upon him.

"Hey! C'mon," he looked around desperately at the other girls, his eyes lingering particularly on Julietta. "Are you all bewitched or something? I can get you out! I can _free_ you."

Julietta went absolutely still.

Free. She could be free!

Free to leave these walls and never come back. Free to… to…

"Just wait," he was saying. "I can help you… Demons like this killed my family."

Rage twisted his face. "And now I can get my revenge!"

With incredible speed, he pivoted on his heels and threw his club. It whistled through the air, but Donny and Raph weren't ninjas for nothing. They dove aside with feet to spare. With a crunch, the huge weapon buried itself into the fine marble floors.

There was another whistling noise and the man grunted as an arrow buried itself into the back of his right shoulder.

Roaring with anger, Jones whirled around and made to charge the archer when he felt the unmistakable brush of a kopis blade against his throat.

Julietta couldn't ever remember being this angry. Not when her caravan had thrown her into the castle to die. Not when Raph and Master Splinter had told her she could never leave. Not even when Raph had told her her family didn't want her.

This man had – had –

What if Raph hadn't moved out of the way in time?

And – a more disturbing thought – why did she even care?

"I can get you out of here!" Jones yelled. "You'll be free of these demons forever!"

Four pairs of beautiful, bright eyes met his.

"I think," Julietta growled, her blade not moving a hair. "We'd like to stay here with our friends."

"And now." Angela dismounted gracefully and drew her saber from the scabbard hanging from her hips. "You, Mr. Jones, have worn out your welcome. We will see you out."

***************************************

Casey Jones grunted in pain as he ran through the darkening forest. His arrow wound, not to mention the injuries he had sustained while the four girls had made him run alongside them to the front gates while they rode their horses, ached terribly.

Those bitches had tied him to their saddle horns, or in the case of the two who rode bareback around their horses' necks, and forced him to run behind him. They had barely slowed down even when he tripped; just slowed down enough for him to climb to his feet and continue running.

This didn't make any sense.

They were trapped in the grounds with two demons, and there might have been more hiding in the castle. But they had refused to leave. They had even attacked him when he tried to drive away those who were holding them prisoner!

For surely they had to be prisoners. Women like that didn't willing stay with monsters like the two he had just seen.

They had to be under some spell. Yes, that was it. Those demons had them under some kind of mind control spell and that was why they had attack him.

He would have to come back with more people to help free them!

He would lead a group of warriors to defeat the demons and then… maybe the pretty gypsy girl would be interested in giving him a proper reward.

With a growl, the young man increased his pace and ran towards home.

Casey Jones was never defeated so easily!

*************************************

"Why didn't you leave with him?"

Julietta looked up from the book she was reading. "What?"

Raph leaned on the back of her chair. "Why didn't you leave with that guy?"

An eyebrow rose. "You want me to leave?"

"No! I mean…" he rubbed his head and came around to sit on the low table directly in front of her. "You've always said that the first chance you got, you'd leave. Today, you had the biggest chance you've ever had and you decided to stay. How come?"

She looked up at the ceiling, trying to find her answer. "I… I like it here. It feels like home."

"I thought you hated being cooped up inside these walls."

"No so much anymore. I can go anywhere I want except that stupid main hall."

"I – uh – I'm glad. Y'know, that you didn't leave."

"Sure because you wouldn't have anybody interesting to fight with. You'd be stuck with Leo and Angie."

He shuddered and caught her eye.

They grinned at each other for a moment before abruptly realizing what they were doing and looking away hastily.

"What're you reading?"

The girl showed him her book. "It's a play by some dead guy named William Shakespeare. It's called 'Much Ado about nothing'."

"I heard o' that. Aren't there a girl and guy who argue the whole time?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "And in the end they realize that they're both in love with each other…"

Amber eyes met dark eyes.

Two hearts thundered. And two stomachs started doing acrobatic routines. Heat shot into faces.

Raph had to swallow several times to get enough moisture in his mouth to talk. "Well, I – uh – I better – um – go… do… that, uh, thing… that… uh…"

"I gotta go. Bye, Raph!" To her complete horror, she gave him a one-armed hug and darted out of the library.

Leaving him, of course, to open and close his mouth like a fish.

*****************************************

"And you say there were four women?" demanded the tall, strange man. "No more, no less?"

"Positive." Casey Jones was seriously getting sick of answering all these questions, but if this Lord Saki Oroku wanted to help him rescue those girls from the demons he would just have to keep his mouth shut and answer all the questions.

The big man leaned back in his chair. "I have had meetings with these demons before. There are five of them – four younger and one very old. They are very powerful and ruthless. I have no doubt that they have been… dishonoring the young women and twisting their innocent minds for as long as the girls have been trapped by them."

"We've gotta stop them!" Casey shouted, leaping up from his chair.

"Patience, my friend," his benefactor soothed. "This is not something that we can just rush into. Those creatures are as cunning as they are monstrous and any attempt to eliminate them and rescue the maidens must be carefully planned."

"Okay. So what should we do?"

**Here we go. What dangers await our fair heroines next chapter? **

**Review and find out!!!**


	32. Preparations

**Alrighty, here's the next chapter!!**

**Tell me what you think!**

Chapter 31

Preparations

"And front, side – no, to the left! – front, and side – this time right!" Angela said, clapping her hands in a steady beat.

Gwen mouthed the counts as she stumbled through the steps, her legs somehow managing to tangle with themselves. This was the eighth dance lesson Angela had offered her and it was completely empty except for her. Zoey and Julietta had breezed through the more complex steps while Gwen still mixed up the basics.

"Well…" Angela said at the end of the lesson. "It's much, much easier with a partner."

"I am such a klutz," she moaned into her hands. "So hopeless…"

"You are not hopeless!" her tutor said sharply. "You just need some extra practice! Don't worry too much about it!"

When the other girl's face remained downcast, the blonde slipped an arm around her shoulders. "You'll be fine, Gwen. Trust me, when it comes right down to it, you can pull anything off. Remember that intruder two weeks ago?"

Her spirits lifted. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Angie."

The ball was in eleven more days and it was obvious the servants felt this was crunch time; dusting clothes were flying everywhere and polishing brushes scrubbed in corners tirelessly. She had entered her room more than once to see several servants holding up incredible dresses and ballgowns as though examining them carefully. Jewels were being polished with religious care and the gardens were looking even more magnificent than usual.

Hopping over a host of water puddles that were briskly scrubbing at invisible dirt patches by the front entrance, Gwen immediately slid on the water and had to grab the doors to keep from falling.

"Sorry!"

The sun was particularly bright today, but it did little to dim the brilliant colors of the flowers. Gwen's light sundress was a lavender sleeveless piece that tied in the back. Comfortable sandals, a violet headband and the silver pendant Donny had given her as a birthday gift completed the ensemble.

She hummed to herself as she wandered through the gardens, searching for the other girls.

They weren't by the fountain, the stables, or the orchards. There was no one by the water gardens. The gazebo was empty. The hedge labyrinth was silent.

At last, she found the two in the rose garden, a walled area with several benches situated inside the high stone walls covered in climbing rose vines. Rose bushes were everywhere, exploding with everything from huge blossoms at the peak of perfection to tiny buds just beginning to swell. Colors ranged from dark red to white to light purple to the palest pink.

Julietta was gracefully moving her body through elegant shapes and positions while Zoey imitated her.

"What are you doing?"

"Julie's showing me some gypsy dancing moves," Zoey explained, turning.

"You should try," Julietta said, swaying her hips in an altogether suggestive manner. "It helps people with their balance."

Well… when you put it that way…

"Will you show me?"

"Show you what?"

"A dance. Just one."

"What for?" the dancer asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her dark hair flashed coppery gold in the sunlight, complimented by her hooped bronze earrings.

"I want to see what a gypsy dance looks like. To see if I could learn one."

"Anyone can learn a gypsy dance."

Gwen made a face. "Anyone can ballroom dance but I'm still tripping over myself."

"A ballroom dance is completely different from a gypsy dance. Watch."

Julietta lifted her arms to the sky and arched her back. She stepped forward, letting her hips move smoothly along with her body, and then slid her back leg around in front, all the while letting her arms drop to comb briskly through her dark curls then down to brush her slender waist.

And then with an abrupt whish of her hand, she had swept up her skirt and kicked her leg above her head. The leg touched the ground again and immediately she was turning neatly, her skirt flaring. And then she half skipped half glided to her right, leapt easily into the air like a deer and came down gracefully on a bent knee with her arms draped gracefully on the air.

"See? Completely different."

"But they both have something in common," Gwen said faintly.

"And what's that?" Julietta asked, getting to her feet.

"I'll never be able to do any of them."

Zoey giggled. "It's super easy, Gwen! All you really have to do is move your hips like this."

She demonstrated.

"Try it," Julietta ordered.

"I don't have hips."

The gypsy scoffed. "Honey, I've seen the way you move around Don. You definitely have hips. Now move them like this."

Flushing in embarrassment, the shyer girl timidly swayed her hips.

"_Con sensualità_," Julietta laughed, bumping the quieter girl's hips with her own. "We all know you've got it in you."

"Yeah! If you can threaten to shoot some guy when he tries to hurt the guys, you can do anything!" Zoey chipped in, standing on Gwen's other side and swaying her own hips.

Gwen imitated them with slowly rising enthusiasm until the three were in full swing.

"Follow this!" Julietta ordered, going into a series of simple steps.

After a few rounds of this, she spun on her students and flapped her hands at them. "Stop copying me! Do whatever the hell you want! Gypsy dancers just dance how it suits them!"

"Works for me!" Zoey sang, bouncing away on the balls of her feet and occasionally leaping into somersaults.

"How's this?" Gwen asked, putting her skirt-filled fists on her hips and skipped to her right. Flaring her skirt, she turned slowly, flicking her hands carelessly.

"Perfect," Julietta encouraged, dipping down until she was sitting on her heels and then rising slowly up to her toes.

Gwen closed her eyes and fell into the steps that Angela had been trying to teach her for the past week. Back, left, front, right… repeat…

"What are you doing?"

Speak of the devil.

There stood Angela herself, staring at them in shock, hands on her slender hips.

Julietta seemed completely unconcerned. "Dancing. What's it look like?"

"You look like… gypsies…"

"Really. Imagine that. I, a gypsy, actually _look_ like a gypsy. I'm shocked, really. Just stunned."

The blonde scowled at the sarcastic gypsy. "But the way you all are dancing… it's so… _suggestive_…"

Gwen stopped in horror. Suggestive? As in a whore?

Zoey blinked. "Suggesting what?"

There was a long moment in which the three older girls closed their eyes in exasperation.

"She thinks we're dancing like hookers."

"I did not say that, Julietta!"

"I'm not saying that I don't care what you think, but it's fairly well understood, isn't it?"

Angela sighed. "I hope you aren't going to dance like that at the ball."

"And why not?"

"It's a ball not a folk dance!"

"It's not like we're trying to show off to anyone! We're just going to be with the guys!"

"Do you want Raph to know that you dance like a… a…"

"Say it, Angie. Sluts."

"I just don't think it is proper to be dishonoring your body by –"

"Dishonoring?" Zoey echoed. "How's this dishonoring your body? I mean, Julie's really pretty and when she dances, it shows. So wouldn't this be honoring your body?"

"Good point, Zoe!" Julietta grinned. "That's exactly what my grandmother used to tell me."

Gwen bit her lip. She wasn't sure what to make of all this. She enjoyed dancing the way Julietta did. It was wild, exhilarating… and she had managed to learn the steps Angela had been trying to teach her just by lightening up and swinging her hips. But she didn't want Donny to think – she didn't want to look like a slut.

"And besides, this is just for fun. It's not like I'm going to jump up and dance on the table while I take my clothes off."

"Julie's right," said Zoey firmly. "You really need to lighten up, Angie!"

The beautiful noblewoman brushed her silvery hair over her shoulder haughtily. "Just don't expect me to join you."

Julietta's bronze face broke into a wicked, white smile. "Whatever you say, Angie."

******************************

Leo was just polishing off an apple the next day when he ran into Angela on his way to the library.

"Hello, Angie. What are you doing here?"

She blinked at him. "What do you mean? I live here."

"No – I meant, what are you doing in here? I thought you were in the garden with the girls learning gypsy dances."

Pale eyebrows leapt up on her face. "What would give you that idea?"

"Julietta told me yesterday that you were thinking about learning a few gypsy dances –"

"I most certainly am not!"

He looked taken aback at her unexpected outburst.

It took her a moment to realize what she had just said. "Oh! I beg your pardon, Leo! I didn't mean to snap at you."

He laughed outright – the sound sent strange, oddly exciting, shivers down her spine. "Don't worry about it, Ang."

There was a moment of silence.

"What do you think of gypsy dancing?"

Leo wasn't used to being struck dumb twice in less than five minutes. "I beg your pardon?"

"Do you think that it is something that I could do? Or am I too… stuffy?"

"I think you'd make a very good gypsy dancer. You're very graceful and beautiful."

Normally when he told her she was beautiful she would flush and try to brush off the compliment, but now she ignored it completely.

"I'm not too stiff? Too cold?"

"I don't know why you're so worried about being cold and stiff, Ang, you care too much about us all to be cold and I know you're not stiff. I've seen you get mad." He brushed a bit of blond hair from her face gently. "You are… an incredible person and I'm glad to have met you."

A mischievous thought hit him. "And I definitely think you should learn some gypsy dances. It would shut Julietta and Zoey up and… I'd like to see you move like a gypsy."

************************************

Angela sprinted down the front steps of the castle, nearly flattening Gwen and Julietta.

"I thought ladies didn't run," the gypsy said sarcastically.

"Who cares? They shouldn't, but that's not important right now. Can you teach me to dance?"

"What?"

"Will you teach me to dance? A simple gypsy dance in time for the ball?"

It took a while to convince Julietta that she wasn't kidding and about fifteen minutes to get her to stop laughing and agree to teach her.

They did not speak of their previous conversation, and she quickly forgave Zoey when the younger girl tried to apologize.

Afterall, she thought practically to herself. Liking someone else enough to want to show off a bit was not something to be ashamed of, especially when it was someone like Leo. In fact, I could have done a lot worse.

************************************

And so dancing lessons were expanded to include gypsy dances, which only added to amount of preparations being done: Zoey was regularly dragged out of the room and made to stand still while the servants put her hair into numerous experimental updoes, Julietta was constantly hunting for one of the guys to help her yank off the torturous shoes that somehow kept appearing on her feet, Angela was often late for morning practice because her maids wouldn't let her out in the morning until she had tried on at least a dozen different ballroom dresses, and Gwen…

Gwen was hiding from the shining bits of sand in the library.

After yesterday's catastrophe of velvet, satin and tangled ribbon, she had decided that she was not going to worry about what to wear and she was going to stay far out of the servants' reach.

She peeked cautiously out the doors and sighed happily. All clear.

With as much quickness and silence as she was capable of, Gwen ducked out of the library and hurried down the hall, around the corner and past a large statue of a winged woman to the music room. Glancing around to ensure that she had managed to get there unnoticed, she wrenched open the door –

And came face to face with the sand servants.

"Ummm… hi, you guys…"

In less than ten minutes, she was being forced into another ballgown and protesting loudly.

***********************************

Casey Jones was shocked.

Truly and utterly shocked.

When Saki had said that he could gather a large number of people to help them, he hadn't been kidding around. There was a group of people headed by a short, fat man, who claimed that the demons had stolen his beloved daughter Angela away from him, a group of travelers that actually claimed to have seen the monsters for themselves, and even a caravan of tough looking gypsies lead by a man called Raul with a ruined face, who said that the demons had captured his fiancé. The forces that Saki claimed as his own were even more impressive; there were over a hundred and fifty armored soldiers who waited on the strange man hand and foot, and a strange, proud young woman. Lady Karai, she called herself.

Saki's soldiers were perfectly disciplined. They could move more silently than anything Casey had ever seen and fight in a way he had never even heard of. Saki and Karai were absolutely incredible themselves; the soldiers called them The Shredders among themselves as though their leaders were gods.

It was actually a little bit creepy.

But, Casey thought, his mind turning to the burning dark eyes of the gypsy girl (who he hoped very much wasn't the fiancé Raul had spoken of), he would do whatever it took to free the girls.

********************************

Meanwhile the guys were beginning to freak out.

There were only ten days until the ball.

Now only a week.

Now six days.

Now five.

Four.

Three.

Two…

**And the next chapter is the long awaited ball! REVIEW!!!**


	33. Night to Remember

**Okay. First, apologies to everyone - this chapter was been revised about three times. Afterall, awesomeness doesn't just write itself.**

**Now. Please enjoy and tell me if the romance is too corny.**

Chapter 32

Night to Remember

_"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" squealed all of the girls except one. "A ball!"_

_"What's the big deal?" said the only little girl not impressed by the idea. "It's a party where you dress up and dance."_

_"I thought you loved dancing."_

_"Aren't we getting a little off topic?" asked one of the mothers._

ONE.

********************************

He was going to be sick. Really and truly sick.

And he wasn't the only one; Mikey hadn't cracked a joke for hours, sitting by the fireplace and looking despondent, Leo was pacing wildly, and Raph kept breaking the glasses he was holding.

Only Master Splinter was the only one seemed calm, the key word here being 'seemed'. Leo knew perfectly well that when his father's tail began twitching like that, he was ready to start climbing the walls. He wondered how his teacher and father managed to look so tranquil and made a mental note to pursue more meditation.

The servants had already scrubbed them down and dressed them in their best tunics; he had no idea how they had managed to tailor the clothes he had worn when he was still human to fit his much broader terrapin shoulders, but he had to admit that they all looked pretty good – for turtles.

"This is so stupid," Raph muttered. "So stupid. We're trying to woo a bunch of girls who should be marrying royalty. How is this supposed to work?"

"You _are_ royalty, my son," Master Splinter quietly reminded him. "Never forget that."

"I know." The slump in Raph's shoulders made it quite clear that he had forgotten.

For a moment, Leo saw his brothers as they had once been – Donny curled up in an armchair, pouring over his latest plans for a new invention, Mikey laughing over a bit in one of his comic books as he sprawled in front of the fireplace, and Raph sitting on the coffee table busily carving a thick chunk of wood into a figurine. Each had been pursued by many admirers for his good looks.

If they looked as they once had, this wouldn't be a tenth as difficult – Raph was right; how did one present oneself as a potential husband when one was so…

He thought of Angela – her large, clear eyes, her soft blond hair, her smile, and that laugh of hers. And then he looked down at himself and sighed. Even with a tunic and slacks that had been fitted to their new forms, there was still no chance of this working.

"It is time, my sons."

**********************************

"Tonight is the night that we rid the world of these terrible demons!" the Shredder howled, swinging his huge sword over his head.

His followers roared in response, waving their own weapons.

Casey Jones clutched his mace in anticipation and caught the wild look in the Shredder's dark eyes. That was kind of creepy.

"Into the forest!"

And they were off.

************************************

In no time at all they were standing in the ballroom, at the foot of the grand staircase. This was probably the most formal of all of the rooms in the castle, excluding the throne room.

For one thing, it was truly huge and for another it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen. The room was circular, with a dome frescoed with multicolored dragons flying alongside beautiful female angels with rainbow wings at the top and a fine, enormous crystal chandelier dangling from the dome's very center. The dome was held up by a collection of glass panes that in the daytime would fill the great room with golden sunshine. As it was, the windows reflected the thousands of candles set into the chandelier. The walls of the ballroom were split down the middle; the girls would come in from the sweeping staircase that was on the far side of the room where the walls were covered in rich paintings and tapestries and on the other side of the room where he had been standing with his family, the walls were lined with huge windows that stretched from the ceiling to the ground. The floors were polished marble the color of fresh cream mixed with blueberries, strawberries, grapes, and oranges.

The staircase a marble creation the same color as the floors, covered in a rich golden carpet and lined with a sturdy but elegant banister.

A muffled chime from the grandfather clock in the throne room rang out, signaling the arrival of seven o'clock. It was time.

On cue, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen appeared at the top of the staircase and paused for a long moment, staring about in clear awe of the magnificent room. Finally her eyes rested on him and a bright smile spread across her face as she began to walk down the stairs.

He received a shock.

Angela.

That was Angela.

Her hair shone like pale gold and hung loose around her face and down her back. Long, dangly diamond earrings brushed her neck while a silver necklace set with a star-cut sapphire gleamed in the hollow of her throat, and a slender matching diamond bracelet encircled her left wrist.

He could tell her dress had been tailored just for her. It was a rich, shiny blue material that emphasized her slender figure and brought out her silver eyes. The bodice was simply cut but Angela had never worn anything so low before – not that he was complaining; the skirt had been sewn specifically for waltzing in, with no ruffles or ribbons to get in the way. It actually would have been rather plain if not for the winking diamonds that sparkled on the bodice and, more sparingly, on the skirt.

Leo knew that he was smiling like a fool but he was unable to do anything about it.

When she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, he bowed deeply to her.

"Good evening, Lord Leonardo," she said, giving him one of her perfect curtsies.

"Good evening, Lady Angela," he answered, taking her hand carefully and kissing it.

He felt ridiculously good when she blushed, _giggled_ and took his outstretched arm.

*********************************

Raph grinned at the goofy grin on his usually stoic older brother's face. Holy crap, it had taken only one slow smile from Angie and his brother practically melted into a puddle of turtle goo.

Still smirking, he looked up – it was Julietta's turn next and he didn't want to miss her falling down the stairs. His smile froze on his face and fell with a crash to the marble floor.

Holy crap.

Holier shit.

Julietta's hair was loose once again, hanging almost to her waist and sparking copper and gold. She had on black and diamond earrings… and a dress.

It was a red piece with only one shoulder. A slick black band went around her waist, and the dress was decorated with embroidered black and gold roses along the neckline and sash. Strange, but extraordinarily beautiful. This was strange. Really, really strange.

Even stranger were the weird little black lacy, fingerless gloves on her hands.

She stood at the top of the staircase for a good thirty seconds, staring in shock at the huge room. Her head turned slowly as she stared around it all, her dark earrings flashing.

The feeling in his stomach – the one that had been a constant for the past three months whenever he fought, spoke to, went near, or even thought about her – went wild, sending (_shudder_) butterflies bouncing around in his stomach.

Finally, the gypsy shook herself and began her cautious descent down the stairs, her skirts drawn up to reveal slick black boot high-heels.

She looked like a gypsy princess – when had he gotten so damn poetic?!

Except a princess would have a bit more grace when she stumbled her way down the last three steps and needed to be rescued. Her dark eyes surveyed him thoughtfully – the feeling intensified.

Hide it! Hide it!

"Still can't walk in those, huh?" he smirked.

"Try walking a mile in these – oh wait," she smiled sweetly. "Even your toe couldn't into my shoes."

At the sight of that smile, his heart did its usual weird little skip. "Who needs shoes?"

She playfully scowled up at him even as she snapped her skirt to one side to give him an odd bow-curtsey, which he returned with a bow. "Lucky bastard."

His insides doing a weird tango thing, he chuckled as though nothing was wrong and offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation to his immense pleasure, and led her over to stand with him beside Master Splinter.

She smelled of roses, he noticed with a surge of heat along the back of his neck.

*************************************

Raph looks like he was hit in the stomach, Donny thought, trying not to be gleeful at his brother's discomfort.

Afterall, he had no doubt that as soon as he saw Gwen he would be speechless as well.

I was right, he thought in a daze, staring up at the vision up on the staircase.

Her light brown hair was loose and very fluffy, bouncing and sweeping alternately as she stared around at the ballroom. A simple silver bracelet hung from her right wrist and matching silver chains dangled as earrings. A silver chain with the same amethyst pendant she had worn on her first day here was around her neck.

The dress had no sleeves or even shoulders, choosing instead to cling to her chest and then fall in a graceful skirt that brushed the floor. Vertical lines of tiny, winking diamonds were embroidered into the bodice with silver thread until they were interrupted by a silver section that was almost like a belt directly beneath her breasts. The lines of diamonds on the bodice tapered off once they passed the bodice and entered the region of the skirt.

She was… just… just… beautiful, flawless, he had never seen anyone more lovely.

Gwen wobbled down the stairs, gripping the banister for balance, her eyes fixed on him. The way she looked at him made him feel as though he was baking inside his shell – but in a good way. As though spontaneous combustion was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

Shy smile on her pretty face, she reached the bottom and curtsied, but stumbled halfway through. He lunged forward and caught her arm firmly.

"Are you alright?"

Her hazel eyes beamed at him as much as her smile. "Yes."

**************************************

Mikey was well and truly excited.

The other girls looked sooooo pretty in their dresses and he was sure that Zoey was going to be just as pretty. Probably prettier.

Angela was pretty, but she was too stiff, she didn't smile enough. Julietta was pretty, but she always acted like she was getting ready to snap your head off. Gwen was pretty, but she was always talking about something that he didn't understand.

And the two main problems were: number one, they didn't have a good sense of humor. And number two: they weren't Zoey.

She was… at the staircase!

She was… she was… _wow_.

Her hair kept switching off from being reddish gold to being goldish red, it was curly and pulled it up into a loose ponytail that fell over her left shoulder, leaving her bangs and several longer strands of auburn hair to frame her face. Gold bracelets were on each wrist and pretty dangly earrings glittered.

Her dress was perfect for her – she looked like a fairy princess.

It had a smooth bodice with a V-necked front and back with tiny bits of amber and diamonds sprinkled all over it, and a lighter layer on the pale gold skirt. It was almost like beaded sunlight.

She skipped down the steps, her light skirt bouncing with every step, and bobbed a quick curtsey to him. "Hi, Mikey!"

It took a few moments to untangle his tongue. "Uh… hi, Z."

He belatedly realized that he was supposed to bow and did so.

************************************

Master Splinter raised an approving eyebrow at all of this. It seemed to be going well; the girls looked happy and his sons looked utterly flabbergasted at how the girls had been cleaned up. He could only hope that the boys would not be overly intimidated by the girls' appearance, and that they could properly function in their role as hosts… and perhaps something else.

"Welcome, honored guests and welcome to your escorts as well," Splinter began formally, speaking a part that he still knew almost by heart. "Before we speak any more of the importance of tonight's event, I give you a moment to greet each other."

He fell silent and watched as the girls grinned at each other and teased the boys on their nervousness.

After a moment, he continued: "And now, I would ask that you make your way to the dining table to feast before we begin to dance."

Their attention was drawn to a huge table set to one side of the room. Even the guys were impressed; the huge table in the dining room had been moved into the dining room, covered in a silk and lace tablecloth and thousands of covered crystal, gold and silver plates, glasses, goblets, covered dishes, pitchers, urns, bowls, and platters. Each empty plate and was sparkling clean as though someone had spent hours polishing it – which they probably had.

The table was set for nine, four large, elegant seats on either side of the table and a huge, throne-like chair at the head.

Master Splinter sat at the head of the chair and watched as Leo sat at his right hand and Raph on his left. Angela sat on Leo's other side, Donny was on Angela's other side, and Gwen sat on his other side. Raph had Julietta on his right and Mikey and Zoey sat on her other side. Once they were all seated, he stood and spread his old hands out.

"Providence has provided us with the fortune to see this day. Let us pray that we will see the next year and watch as our kingdom reaches its one thousandth anniversary." He took his wine glass, which was now filled with rich champagne. "To Rosacaea!"

"Rosacaea!" the others agreed, raising their own, now full, glasses and drank.

"Let us eat!"

"Yea!"

************************************

Casey Jones held up his torch to avoid another painful encounter with a tree. There was no shortage of giant oaks to run into and even the many torches that everyone was holding didn't seem to be making much of a dent in the darkness.

The Shredder was not the slightest bit deterred by the oppressive shadows, indeed, he and his forces seemed rather excited by the blackness. The gypsy group was extremely nervous; they kept muttering strange prayers and making odd protective gestures. When asked, they only said that it was to ward off evil spirits and the dark curses the demons were no doubt shooting at them. The fat, old nobleman who complained of losing his daughter ordered his soldiers and bodyguards to surround him as he walked through the dark forest.

Casey himself felt rather uneasy in the midst of these huge shadowed trees.

By now most of the slender, beautiful faces he had seen several weeks ago had names: the proud elegant blonde was Angela (how someone so stunning could be related to that idiot, ugly nobleman was anyone's guess), the pretty young brunette who had fired an arrow at him was Gwen, and the gorgeous gypsy Julietta was that crazy gypsy, Raul's, fiancée and no one could tell him who the cute girl with auburn hair was.

Well, it made no difference, by sunup the demons would be dead and the girls would be free and… maybe the gypsy Julietta would prefer him to Raul after this…

In just a few more hours…

***********************************

Zoey sighed contentedly as she patted her comfortably filled stomach. The castle cooks – whether they were flames or sand or ducks – had truly outdone themselves. The food had been beyond delicious and it took her body informing her that if she took one more bite she would be heaving all over the freshly polished floor for her to stop eating.

Now she was antsy. She wanted to play. Her feet started skittering restlessly beneath her pale gold skirt and finally she could no longer take sitting still.

Giggling, the girl stood up and took Mikey's hands firmly in her own. "C'mon, Mikey! Let's dance!"

"A moment, Miss Zoey," Master Splinter said from the head of the table.

"What is it, Sensei?" Zoey asked. "Aren't we supposed to dance at balls?"

The elderly rat smiled. "Yes, but it is traditional for the dancing to open with a slower dance led by the highest ranking nobles at the ball and their escorts. The first dance will have to include the others."

The others, huh? She looked at them hopefully.

The results were rather mixed.

Gwen and Donny were looking determinedly at their cups, Julietta was tossing her napkin down onto her plate, Raph was trying to look surly enough to ward off his date, and Leo was helping Angie out of her chair.

Julietta teetered slightly on her boots as she got to her feet. "Get your shell out of that chair, Raph. It's not like I'm asking for your firstborn son – it's just a dance."

Scowling darkly, the turtle allowed himself to be hauled out of his chair.

Mikey leapt out of his chair and grinned brightly at Zoey. "This is gonna be really fun!"

It took another moment for Gwen and Donny to be cajoled out of their chairs and soon the eight went into the center on the ballroom. The girls stood in a line facing the boys who stood in a line across them. The chandelier glittered above them as a wind servant whisked around them all once before soft music began.

Remembering her lessons from Angela, Zoey buried her hands in either side of her skirt and curtseyed while beside her the other girls did the same – though Gwen was shaking rather alarmingly and Julietta gave an unmistakable gypsy curtsey. Then she waited a split second until Mikey laid a polite hand on her arm and raised her to her feet. Along the line, the girls came to their feet.

Zoey was practically bouncing as she placed her left hand up on Mikey's surprisingly tall shoulder and clasped his hand with her right.

The music swelled and they began.

Back, left, forward, right…

It took only two rotations through the simple steps for her to step a little faster and tease him for harder moves.

"Try this," he grinned.

He turned her easily and brought her back, taking several progressive steps forward, forcing her to take several steps backward to keep up. And then he was turning her again and again. He took position again and began the basic steps, lengthening his stride until they were going around the dance floor. He suddenly released up of her hands, allowing her to spin out so that they stood side by side.

The song ended with the two of them grinning at each other happily.

***********************************

Gwen stared desperately at a point over Donny's shoulder and tried not to think about how she was only barely competent in the steps Angela had patiently tried to teach her. I'm going to trip, she thought despairingly. I just know it.

"Are you okay?" her partner asked, catching her eye.

She smiled weakly. "I'm not really that great a dancer."

He smiled back. "Neither am I. We'll go slow."

The man leads, but the woman is always right. That was what Angela had said during the first lesson. To which Julietta had replied: "Sounds just like a successful marriage."

That teased a smile on her face even as Donny took a slow step forward with his left foot and she absently stepped backward with her right foot. They moved slowly through the motions of the dance even as around them the others darted through the motions.

Angela had been right – this _was_ easier!

He began turning them in a slow circle as they continued the basic step.

After a while, she smiled nervously at him. "Wow… we're doing this right."

Donny chuckled. "Yeah… well, I had to learn this stuff when I was a kid and you're a pretty good dancer."

"No I'm not."

He abruptly extended his arm and led her through a turn. She followed through automatically and blushed when she stepped back into his arms.

"Sure you are."

Gwen could not find an answer to that as they rotated again and he led her through yet another turn, his hand gently guiding her.

When the music stopped, they were in the middle of a turn. Donny merely spun her out completely, let go of her hand and bowed to her.

"You definitely are."

**************************************

About an hour and a half into the dancing, Julietta rolled her eyes at the music.

"What?" Raph asked her.

"This music could put you to sleep."

He looked at her for a moment, then turned and gestured with a hand.

A faster, wilder dance began and she took her position with him. Before they started she gave him the same warning she had given him for the first dance, "Remember, your hands go _anywhere_ besides my back and my hand and I will kick your green ass into next Sunday."

"What? Today's Thursday – you're losing your touch."

He grimaced as her black lace covered hands tightened viciously on his skin.

"Watch yourself, Raphie-boy, I can still kick your ass any day of the week."

"Sure," Raph smirked, meeting her dark eyes with his brighter gold ones.

And he abruptly lunged forward as the dance began. She stepped backward expertly and turned quickly as his arm came up.

She turned all the way out and flourished with her free arm before returning her original position. Several basic steps, then a slow, lazy progression of steps, and she made a turn without releasing his hands and leaned into his chest. Then she stepped away and turned back to the basic steps. He turned and she turned slowly – letting her crimson skirt flare out around her. She took her time walking back to him, allowing her hips to swing.

"Correction," Raph said when they bowed to each other at the end of the song. "You could kick my ass in dancing."

"Yipee," Julietta deadpanned. "But at least you can move your hips – most gypsy guys can't do that. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Dunno, I've always been able to do it."

She cocked her head playfully and gave him a smile that made him stare and gibber. "There must be a hell of a lot of gypsy blood somewhere in that shell of yours."

With a wink, the girl bumped her hips against his and tugged him away from the floor. "C'mon, there's another lullaby comin' up. I think Blue-boy and Goldilocks want it for themselves."

***********************************

Angela stepped up to Leo and placed her hands neatly in their proper place.

As the music began, he started with slow basic steps that took them around the dance floor. And then he suddenly lengthened his strides and turned her easily. He spun her around and held her out for a moment, and then brought her back.

It was surprisingly easy to dance with him. He moved lightly on the dance floor for a turtle.

She found herself leaning into his hold instead of holding herself at bay as she once had at balls before she had come here.

"Thank you," he said to her when the dance was over.

"Thank you for asking me to attend," she replied with a shy smile.

There was a moment of tense silence.

"Listen, Angela… there's something I want to tell you."

Leo shuffled a bit and took her hand, "Can we go somewhere private?"

Angela blinked. "Alright."

He led her to the side of the ballroom and pushed at one of the windows, which turned out to be a glass door leading out to a balcony overlooking the gardens.

Breaking away from his grip, she ignored the bench and lawn chairs and sat on the edge of the railing instead. "So what is it?"

Leo didn't speak for a little bit, going over and leaning his chest against the railing beside her.

"There's a story about the last king who lived here," he said at last. "He never had any children so he prayed that God would give him an heir. Over the next six months, he got four little boys, one when his parents were killed by a herd of griffins while they were travelling, a gypsy boy when his caravan was slaughtered, one when his parents were killed by a robber, and the last when his widowed mother died in childbirth."

Though she had no idea where this was going, she stayed quiet and listened.

"He named each of them and raised them as his own. They grew up to be the princes of the kingdom and the future looked promising."

"I sense a 'but' coming on," Angela commented.

He smiled a bit at that, "But, when the princes were about fifteen they were visited by an assembly of ambassadors from another country. Included in that group was a powerful sorcerer who grew angry at the princes and cursed them, the king, their castle, and their entire kingdom."

His head hung at that. "It was around that time that we started living here."

Angela stared at him. "Come now, Leo, you don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?"

He didn't look at her. "It's true, Angela."

She shook her hair lightly. "Look me in the eye and tell me that."

Immediately she was looking into serious, dark brown eyes. "Ummm… uhhhh…"

"It's true, Angie. All of it."

And Lady Angela of Verity found herself unable to move as Leo got a little bit closer.

And closer…

************************************

It was only an hour 'til midnight when the soldiers caught sight of the lit towers of the castle.

Casey Jones clutched his club tighter even as the Shredder gave out the orders.

*************************************

Gwen moaned.

"Are you sure you're alright, Gwen?" Donny asked again. "You've been moaning all night."

"It's my shoes. They're killing my feet." As though they had been listening, the pained appendages gave a particularly horrendous pang of agony and she bent over, favoring her feet.

"Here, Gwen. I think you should sit down," Donny said, motioning to the table.

Gwen looked at the chair he was indicating. It looked comfortable, but the torturous thirty feet that lay between her and the chair made it seem far more trouble than it was worth. "Maybe later."

"Oh no. You need to sit down."

And suddenly her feet were no longer beneath her as Donny scooped her up with surprising strength. With a squeak of abrupt surprise, she jerked forward and grabbed his shoulders to steady her position. "Donatello Hamato, what in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Just hold on, here we go." He lowered her into the chair.

"Don't do that!" she hissed, thumping him solidly on the arm.

"Don't be mad, Gwennie," he said quietly, offering her a cup of water.

Reluctantly, Gwen accepted it.

Donny smiled at her expression before turning serious. "Gwen, do you like it here?"

She looked up from her cup. "What do you mean? Of course I do."

"Do you ever… miss your home?"

Her fingers slowly began to rotate her cup. "A little… and sometimes I would like to visit – but not if it means I could never come back here."

Donny was silent for a long time. "I'm sorry for what's happened to you Gwen. But now, I don't think I could let you leave."

Gwen chuckled. "Good, I wasn't planning on leaving."

There was a long silence.

"What do you mean that you wouldn't let me leave?"

He groaned and sat down heavily on the floor in front of her. "I mean… I think I'm asking you to marry me."

**************************************

Zoey laughed out loud as she and Mikey collapsed to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs as the cheerful folk song they had been dancing to ended.

"That is the best song so far!" she said happily.

"Yup…"

It took them a moment to realize how they had fallen, Mikey flat on his shell, rocking softly side to side like a cradle, and Zoey lay on his carapace, nose to nose with him.

"Hi…" Zoey said shyly, green eyes shy.

"Hi…" he replied, his green skin now blotched liberally with red.

"Maybe… I should get up?"

"Yeah. Uh… I'll help you up."

Neither of them moved.

"Z?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… maybe we should…"

Panic sliced her. "Get something else to eat? Yeah!"

Within moments, Zoey had scrambled off of him and bolted towards the table. She had just grabbed a knife to cut into a large, delicious-looking, white frosted cake, when Mikey appeared beside her and took the blade from her trembling hand.

"Are you okay, Z?"

She didn't want him to think she… him. What if he didn't… her back? "Yeah! 'Course!"

One look at him told her that he didn't believe her, but he was going to let it go.

She pretended she didn't notice his disbelief. "Now, give me back that knife! I want a piece of cake."

Mikey grinned and stuck the knife into its holder in the center of the table, out of her shorter arm reach. "There's a special way of eating this kinda cake."

He turned to the cake, blocking it from her view.

"What –"

Zoey suddenly found herself unable to talk through the cake Mikey had just stuffed into her mouth.

"Now," her best friend said with surprising seriousness. "I can finish saying what I was trying to tell you."

She could only manage a weak squeak as she tried to chew.

"I love you. And not like a friend either. Or sister."

The next minute was spent pounding her on the back as she choked.

"What–" pant-pant "-did you-" pant-pant "-just say?"

He bit his lip as he looked her in the eye. "I said –"

******************************************

"What's with everyone?" Julietta asked from where she was reclining on the grand staircase.

"Whadda ya mean?" Raph muttered beside her, not opening his eyes.

"Well, Gwen and Zoey look like they've been hit in the face by a battering ram. Don and Mikey look like puppies waiting for a treat." She leaned over and squinted off into the distance. "And Leo and Angela… holy crap, I think they're trying to eat each other's faces."

"_WHAT?!"_ Raph sat up so fast he nearly stood up.

Julietta burst out laughing. She was shaking so hard she ended up leaning against Raph's shell as she gasped for breath. "No, you idiot! You think they have it in them to kiss each other?"

He whipped around to face her, his golden eyes smoldering.

"Shit, Raph. It looked like you were sitting on Donny's crazy gunpowder crap."

"Bitch," he muttered, scowling.

They didn't speak for a bit. At last, Raph glanced at his companion.

"What's with the gloves?" he motioned to the black, lacy gloves on her slender hands.

She grinned ruefully at them. "Remember yesterday when we were sparring? And how I grabbed your sais so I could get close enough to beat you – which, I did."

"Yeah."

"Well… I kinda… cut open my hands when I grabbed the blades.

"Whoa!"

Raph suddenly had her hands in his as he stripped away the black gloves and staring at the bandages. "Are you okay? Do they hurt? Why didn't you say anything?"

She blinked. "I just did, didn't I?"

"Before now!"

She ducked her head to fully meet his gaze. "Why do you care?"

That took him fully aback, his hands freezing around her own.

"Well… I… you're… you're important. To me, I mean. I… uh… care about you."

She went strangely warm and happy inside. "The feeling – whatever you're calling it – is mutual."

It took her several minutes to realize that he still had her hands. But she didn't feel like asking for them back.

**********************************

Time is oblivious to what happens as it passes. It will keep right on going no matter is going on. And so, just as these promising things were going on, the clock bonged out the twelve strokes of midnight.

The residents of the castle didn't even notice the passing chimes.

One… Two…

Five…

Eight…

Ten… Eleven…

Twelve…

BANG.

**Uh-oh! Who could that be at the door.**

**Don't worry April fans. She'll be making Casey's life miserable in the next few chapters.**

**REVIEW!!!!!**


	34. Meeting the Enemy

**This is just a warm up to the BIG FIGHT!**

**Next chapter comes fighting, kicking, chaos, butt whuppin', and maybe even confessions of love!!**

Chapter 33

Meeting the Enemy

_The children were awed and completely silent._

_Unfortunately, their storyteller had also gone completely silent as she looked over their heads._

_Her lovely face split into a smile, "Come in, you guys!"_

"_Keep going!!!" wailed one of the younger girls, bouncing up and down on her tailbone._

"_Yeah!!! Keep going!"_

Splinter sat bolt upright, shaking the sleep from his eyes and looking quickly around the ballroom. The children were paired off and, judging by their expressions, they had heard the strange noise too.

BANG

The doors at the top of the grand staircase were flung open and the servants rushed in. In their strange languages, the wind whispering, water burbling, flames crackling, sand grains rustling, and the light only making strange patterns in the air.

The guys went stiff and serious.

"What did they say?" Gwen whispered to Donny. "All I got from that was 'intruders'."

"There're intruders cutting their way through the front gates."

"Those things are spelled!" Julietta pointed out, jogging over with Raph. "How are they cutting through?"

"Everyone!" Master Splinter leapt off his chair and stood before them, face grim. "There is no time for this. Kindly return to your rooms and dress for battle. I will meet you in the entrance hall and there I will explain everything."

Exchanging confused looks, the teens disbursed and hurried to their rooms to change.

Raph and Julietta arrived at the rendezvous point first.

The turtle had ditched his generously cut formal wear for his usual leather belt with his sais tucked securely into it, his knee and elbow pads, and his trademark red mask. The girl had stripped off her ballgown and replaced it with a dark red, slick top with no sleeves, a black leather girdle and a black skirt with high slits on both sides to allow her legs maximum movement. She had black boots, a belt holding her precious kopis blades, leather wraps were around her arms, fingerless gloves were on her hands, and her wild hair had been pulled back from her face to tumble down her slender neck.

Leo and Angela came next.

Their fearless leader wore the same as his brother, though in his own color scheme. Angela was dressed in a lady's war gear. A navy blue dress with a split skirt with slits up to her knee on the right side and terminated at her ankles, elbows, and shoulders with elegant but understated silver embroidery. Her armor consisted of a thigh length tunic of light chain mail with wide sleeves and a high, black, leather collar. Over this went a leather girdle and several leather straps strategically positioned to protect all of the vital stops in her torso. The belt holding up her saber and its scabbard matched her leather armor and her long blonde hair was braided smoothly into a bun.

Donny and Gwen hurtled down the grand staircase to join them.

Dressed like his brothers, only Don's purple mask distinguished him. Gwen wore a simple mauve, knee length, gown with long sleeves that were loose around her arms and tight around her wrists. A leather vest went over her dress and a belt was snug around her slender waist. She sported her wrist guards, her bow and quiver, and her fine brown hair was up in a ponytail.

When Mikey and Zoey finally ran down to join them, no one was surprised to see that Mikey wore his usual attire. Zoey, however, was dressed in quite a different fashion. It was a strange orange dress that was tight on her torso and sleeveless with a high neck, the skirt had slits clear up to her waist, revealing tight black leggings that went no lower than mid-thigh. Matching boots were on her feet, gloves on her hands and her bright hair in a braid.

"Good," Master Splinter said, stepping from the shadows where he had been waiting unnoticed. "You are all here."

"Master, what's going on here?" Leo demanded.

"Oroku Saki has returned."

The guys went still and tense. Jaws clenched and fists tightened.

The girls remained blank.

"Who?" Zoey blurted.

Splinter sighed and took a firmer grip on his staff.

"Unfortunately, there is no time to fully explain to you the story of the atrocities this man has wreaked upon this kingdom. But know this, if he enters our grounds my sons and I are duty bound to defend this castle and destroy any who refuse to leave the premises.

"I asked you young ladies to ready yourselves because I do not wish for you to be taken unawares… should anything happen…"

Derisive laughter jerked everyone from the horrified silence. Julietta tossed her hair wildly.

"Do you really think I'm just going leave you guys here to face this guy alone?"

"She's right," Angela agreed. "I am staying."

"Me too!" Zoey declared, plunking her fists on her hips.

"I'm not going anywhere," Gwen said flatly.

Master Splinter stared at them with a look of strange… approval and relief? "Very well then. Let us go out and meet these intruders."

*********************************

Casey Jones was impressed. And he was trying really hard not to be.

The Shredder was hacking away at the gates with the huge sword he called Tengu. At first the steel gates hadn't so much as quivered no matter how hard or how many times he cut. Finally, the stranger cradled his sword to his chest and began muttering something in another language. Even as he chanted, strange lightening-like strands danced along his blade and soon the sword was sparking wildly.

"Rargh!" roared the man, swinging his weapon through the air.

With a terrible screeching noise, similar to someone scratching an especially fine bit of glass, the sword sliced through a large part of the gates. The metallic barriers immediately began bucking and flailing like a tortured woven band of serpents. Now, there was a sizable hole growing in the center of the fence.

All at once, the dark grounds they had been fighting to enter lit up.

The castle loomed ahead of them like a monster waiting for its prey. A path had been illuminated from the front doors of the castle all the way to the front gates where they stood. And the front doors were opening.

A five-foot rat stepped out of the doors followed by the four turtles and the four young women. Each of them seemed ready to fight.

Casey ground his teeth. Even now those demons were controlling those innocent women. His eyes drifted over to the gypsy.

But that was going to change, he vowed to himself.

The rat turned to say something to his companions before striding down the gravel path that went between a neat line of trees and finally met up with the gates. It stopped right at the edge of the trees, surrounded by the turtles and girls.

It spoke. "How dare you show yourself, Shredder! Oh, yes, I have heard tell of you and your insanities. What impudence leads you to betray our goodwill again?"

The Shredder paused in his demolition of the gates. "At last I can see as you truly are Splinter, father of mongrels!

"Ah, but see here my child, here are the creatures that this fool would have had you marry!"

Lady Karai stepped out of the shadows to stand beside her father, sword at the ready. "Most… inappropriate."

The rat made a sharp movement, swinging his staff to the side and heading off the angry approach of one of the turtles.

"Later I will have to ask how you and your… sons… managed to ensnare such a gathering of women. You will have to tell me as you die."

There was a tremendous screeching noise and the gate was thrown to the side, nothing but a twisted hunk of useless metal.

And the lights cut out as the two sides charged at each other.

_Everyone in the room was stupefied._

"_What happened next?" whispered one of the older girls._

"_Bedtime."_

_It took almost forty-five minutes to corral the protesting youngsters off to bed as everyone of them was complaining: "And the story was just getting good!!!"_

**I know, I know, it's short.**

**But review anyway!**


	35. The Battlefield

**Alright, here we go. The moments of truth are at hand. Hold on to your shells people.**

**And don't forget to review.**

Chapter 34

The Battlefield

_There had never been such a rush to get off the dinner table that night. The children were actually fighting over who would take a bath first._

_In less than an hour after they had left the dining room, every single one of the children was seated in the parlor, waiting for the story to begin._

_After about thirty seconds – it seemed more like three hours to the kids – the storyteller walked in, followed by a handful of men and several women._

_It took forever for the grownups to get settled and the story to restart, but start it did._

Gwen had never clutched anything as tightly as the bow she held in her hands. Her grip was such that her knuckles were ivory. And yet her hands were steady.

The moment of truth had arrived and it brought numerous questions – would she really be able to shoot someone? To really snuff out another's life? She swallowed painfully.

The huge evil creature that Master Splinter had called the Shredder had terrified her. She had no doubt that… that _thing_ would hurt them. Would kill any of the boys and hurt her and the other girls without a second thought.

She thought of Donny with blood coming out of his mouth, still on the ground, eyes blank and staring.

Her own eyes hardened and she released one of her hands' death grip on her bow to slide out an arrow from her quiver and nocked it.

Someone grabbed her from behind, arms around her neck.

Every word and lesson of her training came to her. The once meek and timid apothecary's assistant slammed her head back into her enemy's face. A crunching sound let her know that his nose was broken, his hold loosened and she was able to drop to her knees and throw him over his shoulder.

_Close your eyes, Gwen!_ Hissed a strange voice.

Dammit! The voices were back! Why did they have to be back now?

_Close your eyes!_

Well, it wasn't like it would make much of a difference with the darkness that was surrounding them. She squeezed her eyes shut.

_Get ready to shoot!_

Thankfully she hadn't let go of her bow, but she had to pull out another arrow.

_Get ready…_

_Get ready…_

_NOW!_

Hazel eyes snapped open and she barely had any time to marvel at the flame servants twisting through the air, lighting everything up with a rosy light, before she had chosen her target and released her arrow.

ZING!!!

The big, ugly man sneaking up behind Donny lay transfixed on the ground, her arrow through his heart.

Whipping her head away from this sight, Gwen took aim again.

And again.

And again.

And –

******************************************

Zoey was, for the sixth time in her life, totally grim and serious. Just a few minutes ago there had been nothing but darkness, but then the pretty blond ghost was standing in front of her, glowing softly and motioning frantically for her to close her eyes.

She had instinctively done so and when she opened her eyes the entire battlefield was lit with the light from the fire servants who were now grabbing at the enemy and throwing them away from the others.

A man confronted her and leered unpleasantly. "Come now, pretty one! You don't want to stay with those demons, do you?

"You'd rather come with me, wouldn't you?"

He reached her arm.

Before his fingers could even begin to brush her arm, she grabbed him and kicked him viciously in the stomach. Snatching his other arm as he flailed in confusion and pain, she planted another kick in his chest and used his arms to swing herself off the ground. Giving him a solid heel-strike to his chin, she flipped through the air and landed in a crouch to kick out the legs of the guys coming up behind her.

Lifting herself into a hand stand, she flipped herself right ways up and slammed the heel of her right hand under the jaw of another.

Meanwhile wind was dancing around her, lifting up her braid and bulling intruders off their feet. She smiled happily, the wind servants.

A quick glance around her showed her friends holding their own strongly. Leo was busily slicing his way through the intruders, Angela at his side. Their three blades thrummed through the air like the buzz of dragonfly wings. Julietta and Raph stood back to back, outright brawling with the enemy. Neither seemed to care whether their weapons, fists, or other attacking body part hit the enemy so long as something _hit_. Gwen stood with her back to a tree, firing arrows steadily over the head of Donny who was keeping the close range fighters away from her. The pacifists of the castle were almost unrecognizable as he cracked skulls fiercely and she shot deadly bolt after deadly bolt. Mikey was a few feet away from her, whipping his nunchuks through the air until they were nothing but unrecognizable blurs.

With a breathtaking leap, her friend jumped to her side. "How're ya holdin' up, Z?"

"I'm okay!" she said, flashing him a quick smile.

And she was. For the moment. But that was all that counted: for the moment.

*************************************

Julietta had a wild look in her eye. This surprised no one, least of all the turtle she was standing with. But to the warriors facing her, the young woman looked less like a pretty gypsy and more like a wildcat in human form. Her kopis blades sliced through the air wickedly, but she was not above punching out anyone who came too close.

It had been a nasty shock when the lights had gone out, but Julietta had lately taken to going for walks in the middle of the night to escape the nightmares that had lately been seeping into her dreams and was now used to moving in the dark. It had been even worse when the flame servants had appeared, filling the air with light and burning her corneas.

She had wasted precious seconds trying to blink the vivid purple spots out of her vision, but now she was in full battle mode. Her kopis blades slashed open someone's throat, lopped off another's arm and stabbed through a stomach. The fight was actually rather boring; Raph had been a much better opponent and there was only of him – thank God – and at least thirty of these goons.

Behind her she could hear the grunts and moans of those fighting Raph counterpointed by the rings of steel hitting steel and the dull _chunk_ of steel punching through into delicate human skin.

"How're ya doin', Jules?" Raph shouted over his shoulder, sounding as though he was having the time of his life.

She could relate. "Pretty good! These idiots're pathetic!"

He laughed his wild laugh. The one that sent shivers up and down her spine.

"Wanna switch?"

"Sure!"

She hopped back sharply. Her back hit a turtle shell and she spun around until she was facing his opponents and he hers. Just before they separated, he hissed something to her.

"How're your hands doin'?"

Julietta rolled her eyes and bumped him with her ass. "Worry about yourself, Raphie-boy!"

And the two warriors dove back in.

**********************************

Angela kicked a weapon out of a black ninja's grip and ran him through with her saber. Leo coolly snap-kicked one off his feet and slashed two others even as he struck the first one down.

"Splinter!"

Both swordsmen whipped their heads around to see the hulking, armored man called the Shredder confront Master Splinter. The two collided in whirl of fur and metal. In moments there was a ring surrounding the leaders of the two forces.

"Master Splinter!" Leo hissed, throwing off the opponents now surrounding him.

Angela quickly joined him as they scythed their way through the walls of enemies. Just as they were chopping through the last wall, a tall slender young woman abruptly appeared in front of them.

She was as tall as Angela, with jet black hair cut short to her shoulders and large green eyes. And, more importantly, there was a large wickedly curved sword in her hand.

"So," she began coldly. "You're Prince Leonardo."

"I am. May I ask your name?"

Angela whipped her head from the woman to Leo and back again. _Prince Leonardo?_

"I am Princess Karai."

"A pleasure. Now. Your father has trespassed on our lands, cursed the kingdom and now seeks to kill us. Would you call this right?"

"I will do as my father commands."

And suddenly, the strange woman lunged forward, knocking Angela to the ground and slashing her sword straight at his head. Unfortunately for Princess Karai, Leo had been training since he was old enough to stand upright and his reflexes were sharper than a cat's. He ducked and slashed one blade at Karai's arm and another at her throat.

Angela leapt upright and started towards the flashes that were the swords of her friend and the stranger. She was just about to jump in when Leo shot her a quick look.

She nodded and spun on her heel to face the oncoming ninjas. Her saber darted out and disarmed one, flicking a katana out of a grip and then kicking someone else in the stomach.

"Be careful, Leo," she whispered even as she parried a blow.

************************************

Casey Jones shouldered his way through the crowd, going towards the flash of the gypsy girl's dark curls. He just managed to burst through the last crowd and swung his club towards the red-banded turtle's unprotected head.

And yelped as a stream of sand whisked around his weapon and yanked at it, nearly hauling him off his feet.

"Stupid… sand!" he grunted. "Leggo!"

But it did not let go, instead pulling stubbornly at him. To his surprise, he found himself able to pull his weapon back to his chest, though the sand continued to cling stubbornly to him.

***************************************

Leo gritted his teeth as he pushed at the sword locked against the hilts of his katanas. Before him, Karai bared her teeth as she pushed back. In one mighty shove, she managed to drive him away from her and throw him off his feet, one of his swords flying out of his grip. His shell hit the ground and he barely got his sword up in time to block a strike. It took both his arms to brace the sword against the powerful blow.

From his position in the grass, Leo saw several things at the once. It wasn't the snarling face of the woman bent over him trying to kill him, it was the bright silvery eyes glancing at him desperately over her shoulder, even as she ducked several strikes at once, his brothers and their friends' expressions as they fought their way through the crowds, and the desperation that was become clearer and clearer as his father fought the one called the Shredder.

He kicked Karai off of him and snapped his body, ending up on his feet. They were at each other again, two masters of their art pressing against each other ruthlessly. Leo executed a lightning fast about face, lashing backwards with his foot even as he spun around again to face her, his swords moving in one smooth synchronized slash to catch her off balance and then deliver the finishing blow.

It worked. The princess was completely taken aback by his abrupt, and rather reckless, attack, falling backwards and – dragging her blade up to parry – but she wouldn't be fast enough – he was going to win –

"ARGH!"

"Master Splinter!"

*******************************************

Gwen winced as her fingers grasped the empty air inside her quiver. She was out of arrows.

Gritting her teeth, she rearranged her grip on her bow and joined Donny.

"What are you doing?" he demanded even as he knocked the breath out of a screaming villager.

"Ran out of arrows," she explained quickly as she cracked a gypsy fiercely on the jaw. "We need another plan. This taking them out one by one plan just isn't going to work."

"I was just thinking the same thing!" Donny said, braining a charging ninja. "And I think I have an idea."

"What?"

"The balls."

Her head whipped around to stare at him in shock. "Are you crazy? Those are untested!"

"We know they'll explode."

"But we don't know if they'll only hurt the enemy and leave us alone!"

Donny's pale brown eyes were deadly serious. "We don't have much of a choice! At this rate we're going to be overwhelmed!"

Biting her lip, Gwen felt a trickle of blood come down her chin. "How're we going to get to them?"

"I have some in my bag! I left it in the entrance hall!"

"Well, let's go!"

"Alright! Stay behind me!"

Donny twirled his staff in his hand until it was nothing more than a brown and purple blur and then charged through the numerous men blocking his way, Gwen at his heels, swinging viciously at any who came too close.

The young woman had just spun around to deal with a hand that was snatching at her skirt when she caught sight of a huge metallic monstrosity in the shape of a man looming over Donatello. "Donny! Your right!"

Her friend barely managed to get his bo up in time to stop a powerful fist from caving his head in.

"Go, Gwen!" he yelled at her. "I'll catch up to you!"

Gwen hesitated, unwilling to leave her friend alone.

"GO!" Donny roared.

She went.

It wasn't until she was out of earshot that the turtle coldly greeted his opponent, "Stockman."

*************************************

The first warning Julietta had about the new – and much more dangerous looking – enemy fighter was the subtle vibrations in the dirt under her booted feet. However, being locked in combat made the rhythmic thumps seem completely unimportant.

The terrible screaming that came next was not.

She froze as the sound of horse screams rent the air. She had heard a horse scream only once before, but it was not something one quickly forgot. It was the sound a woman made while she was being murdered. You simply remembered a sound like that.

"Raph!" she screamed, regaining control of her body. "The horses! Something's wrong with the horses!"

"Julie, we can't just –" he began, turning to look at her. Whatever he was about to say died as he looked at her.

She looked at him with open desperation. "Please."

With that single word plea, she turned her back on him and sprinted towards the stables, lashing out at any idiotic enough to get in her way. Julietta had always been a fast runner – she could runner faster and farther than the other girls – but now she was practically flying across the trampled grass. Someone grabbed her wrist and tried to drag her off course; the reckless idiot screamed in agony as Raphael's powerful grip descended on his arm and, with a sharp jerk, broke the bone like a wine glass.

It took several more slit throats and shattered bones before the two managed to get free of the crowds and even then there was a group chasing them.

Catching sight of the stables, Julietta let out a terrible moan. Several dark figures were standing and laughing around the stables as it burned. She could still hear the horses screaming and battering the walls, desperate to get out.

"Bastards!" Raph howled, throwing his sais and bring down two of them. "Jules, get to the horses! I'll deal with these idiots!"

In a normal situation she would have argued until she was blue in the face, but with Dancer and the others shrieking in terror she found herself darting past him, eyes fixed on the doors. It was only the sudden impulse to look back that saved Raph's life.

She had just glanced back over her shoulder to see the biggest man she had ever seen with bright blonde hair and a small head perched on huge shoulders was stabbing at Raph's back. This explained the mystery of the strange vibrations – it had been from his man's footsteps.

"Behind you!" she screeched.

The cat-like reflexes that had landed her flat on her back during training kicked in and Raph dodged away from the huge man. Seeing who it was, her friend outright charged the giant. "YOU!"

That seen to, the young gypsy turned to open the stables only to find herself face to face with a man she had never wanted to see again.

Raul.

************************************

Zoey felt rather guilty. She shouldn't have been enjoying this – hurting other people – but she was. There was something exhilarating about fighting against odds too great to fathom alongside a man – uh, turtle – that she… she…

Anyway, pushing her training to its limits as she kicked, punched, and flipped through the ranks was oddly satisfying with Mikey at her side.

That feeling came to an abrupt halt when something huge and leathery and green entered her line of vision. She threw her head back to see a triangular reptilian head with cruel yellow eyes with slit pupils like a cat's and a mouth lined with fiercely curved and jagged fangs.

She didn't know what the hell kind of monster this was, but it was definitely bigger than the guys, looked stronger, meaner – but perhaps not as mean as Raph – and hungrier. It swung a huge hand – claw – thing at her, and she somersaulted away and thumped Mikey frantically on the shoulder.

"Uhhhh, Mikey? I think we've got a problem."

He turned and saw the creature. His blue eyes widened in shock.

The creature stared at him for a full fifteen seconds before roaring and lunging towards the turtle. Thankfully, Mikey was more than quick enough to dodge away. His nunchuks whirled through the air and he struck the monster flush across his head and momentarily knocked him off balance. The precious seconds this brought, gave them enough time to get a safe distance away.

It was at that moment that a terrible cry split the air, followed by an equally horrible yell from Leo. "Master Splinter!"

The evil man called the Shredder let out a horrible laugh. "My minions! My enemy, the rat king Splinter, has fallen! Rally to me and we will destroy his monstrous offspring and burn the witch-bitches who have made themselves the whores of these turtles!"

The monster menacing them abandoned them to lumber over to the gloating figure of the Shredder where it stood over a smaller shape struggling to stand.

Mikey looked as though he had been pole axed. He could only stare and whisper, "No." over and over again.

As the enemy gathered around to watch as the proud Master Splinter stubbornly pushed himself to his wobbling feet, Mikey made for the sad form of his father. Zoey abruptly moved and grabbed his arm.

"Z, let go. The guys're gonna need me! And Master Splinter –"

"I know!" she couldn't seem to get the words out fast enough. "Me too. I love you too. If we live through this… I promise I'll marry you.

Ignoring his shocked look, she reached out, grabbed the ridge of his plastron and dragged him forward to kiss him. It was quick and both of them were too scared to do it proper justice, but the situation was far too dire for her to do anything else quickly press her lips to his and push him away. Hot tears made their way down her cheeks, "Just come back safe, kay?"

She bolted away from him and quickly found what she wanted. A group of stragglers that had been a little too late in joining their leader to beat – something to distract her from the fact that she had just sent the person she happened to love into a situation that he probably wouldn't survive.

Zoey could've stayed. She could have run after him – watched his back. But the image of Mikey being impaled by that huge sword the Shredder was swinging around drummed in her mind's eye and she could focus on nothing but getting that image out of her head by beating the ever living snot out of these intruders.

If the young, crying acrobat had stayed just a few minutes longer she would have been one of the very, very few to notice the explosion of winds that surrounded her love, changing everything they touched.

**OOOOOOOO! What could this be I wonder?**

**More action later!**

**Review!!**


	36. Chaos

**Alrighty, kindly read this next warning: THIS CHAPTER IS NOT FOR THOSE WHO SERIOUSLY HATE CLIFFHANGERS. SO IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THEM, I'D SUGGEST WAITING ANOTHER WEEK OR SO BEFORE READING THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS OR YOU WILL GO INSANE.**

**Thank you, now enjoy.**

Chapter 35

Chaos

"_What is –"_

_The honored guest that had arrived this morning with her son was shushed by almost a dozen indignant voices. Chuckling, the storyteller beckoned the woman and her son into the room and offered them a seat before continuing the story._

Casey Jones could not believe what he was hearing. The Shredder was going to kill the girls too?

What the hell had happened to saving them from the spell they were under? Was… was it possible that they were doing this of their own free will?

No! No, of course not!

And was it his imagination or had a large group of their warriors turned against each other? He could see men fighting each other. Maybe the gypsies were fighting to get to the girl Julietta before someone tried to kill her?

He turned back to his problem at hand – the stupid sand was still clinging to his mace. And it wasn't pulling either, it was just hanging on it – it weighed way more than it should – like a spoiled child. No matter how he tried to get it off, it refused to be thrown.

In an act of desperation, he dropped his weapon and made for the ring of people surrounding the Shredder. He was nearly knocked off his feet when the sand glomped onto him and refused to let go.

"OH COME ON!!!"

******************************

Gwen stood on the front steps of the castle, clutching Donny's bag in frozen arms. Had that Shredder just said what she thought he had just said?

"Gwen!!" Donny rushed over to her, face a sickly green instead of his normal olive green hue. "They've got Master Splinter! Give me the bag! I've gotta hurry!"

He tugged at the bag in her arms but she didn't let go of it. "You mean _we've_ got to hurry."

"No." She had never seen Donny so serious. "Gwen, these things explode. I don't want you anywhere near them when they go off."

"What about you!"

He smiled weakly and rapped on his shell with his knuckles, "Built in armor, remember?"

"No, don't even think about it. If you're going, so am I.

"Please, Donny. I know you have to go, but let me come with you."

He drew the bag out of her arms and gently pushed her back. "Alright, but wait a few minutes. Let me get a couple of yards away before you follow."

She nodded and took her bow firmly in one hand. "Okay."

With a reassuring smile he turned to head over to the mass of people, before turning around and facing her quietly. His hand rose and caressed her cheek lightly, pressing his palm lightly to her skin. He looked at her seriously. "I still want an answer, you know… when I get back…"

Her smile felt as brittle as spring frost, but she held it bravely. "No… I already know my answer. Yes. I will marry you once all this is over."

"Really?"

She blinked at his incredulity. "Isn't that what you do when you love someone?"

His hand trembled a bit as he leaned forward a bit. "Are you sure?"

She leaned forward. "You're wasting time!"

There was a moment in which he looked rather disappointed, but after she leaned in and pressed her lips to his he looked a great deal happier. "Be safe."

He nodded once. Then turned and darted off into the darkness far faster than she could run.

Gwen hissed in shock; he knew she couldn't run that fast! She didn't bother waiting, choosing instead to leap down the steps and enter the pool of darkness that separated them from the main battleground and run haphazardly after the vague shadow she could only hope was Donny.

She panted as she ran. Oh that Donatello was seriously going to get it when she got her hands on him. Did he really think that she was going to let him get away with this just because she had said she would marry him?

_BANG_

An explosion tore through the darkness and the jeers of those surrounding the Shredder and Master Splinter. The people closer to the castle bolted as fire and earth flew in every direction.

In the ensuing chaos, Gwen realized that the invading army seemed to turn against itself, now fighting amongst themselves. And the strange thing was that some didn't seem to really have any sort of weapons. But… where was Donny?

Her heart began thumping very painfully against her ribcage. Where was he? He wasn't exactly hard to spot in a crowd… He wasn't there… Her breath came harder to her as she turned her eyes to the ground, searching for a terrapin body being trampled under the running feet of the enemy. No, she saw with relief, no body.

Well, not a human body.

_BANG_

Another explosion seared into the crowd on the other side and she smiled painfully. At least Donny was still alive and wreaking havoc, not that she wasn't going to kill him for leaving her behind the next time she saw him.

"Be safe," she muttered as her new mantra.

**************************************

Casey Jones was shocked by what was now hanging tenaciously onto him, weighing him down. Or rather who.

The sand had changed into a young woman just a few seconds before the first explosion. She was slender, with thick, dark red hair and large green eyes. Her face would have been very cute even without the dark scowl she was giving him as she hindered him. As it was, with the scowl she was absolutely freakin' adorable.

"Get out of here, you overgrown Neanderthal!" she snarled.

His already strange life had just gotten a lot stranger.

****************************************

Julietta stared at Raul in complete shock. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He sneered at her. "Here to get my wife." He grabbed her arm roughly. "Come along."

"Didn't we already discuss this?" she growled, slamming her free arm onto his elbow, forcing him to let her go and kicking him in the stomach. "I believe I told you to piss off.

"Now. Why don't you go play with your master?"

Raul had once been a very handsome gypsy, but now his nose was splattered against his cheek and one of his eyes was permanently half-closed (she hoped very much it had been her handiwork). Not the least bit attractive – especially not with that look he was giving her. "Gypsies have no masters."

"Coulda fooled me." With that, she gave him another lightning fast blow to the stomach and kicked him between the legs.

He screamed something highly inappropriate and fell to the ground, writhing.

Her enemy momentarily dealt with, Julietta darted into the stables and threw open the stable doors, letting the horses out. They streamed out, the thunder of their hooves muffling the sudden shout that raised a terrible cheer. It wasn't until she had left the stables did she find out what was going on.

"C'mon!" Raph shouted at her, grabbing her slender arms and shaking her desperately. "They've got Master Splinter! He's in trouble!"

Julietta unceremoniously kicked him in the knee. "Then what are we doing standing around here?!"

And the two of them sprinted across the meadow towards the crowd that surrounded what they could only assume was the fight between Master Splinter and the Shredder. Just as they were going to reach it when a huge explosion rocked the ground and lit up the surroundings. Julietta found herself lifted off her feet by the force of the blast and was saved only by Raph snatching her from the air and running with her the final few steps. Due to the wild stampeding of the adversary to get away from the destruction created by the blast, the two almost immediately had opponents to bring down.

She was just finishing off a ninja who looked better suited to being a lumberjack when the thunderbolt descended upon her. Flying through the air like a rag doll, the young gypsy came down with a crash on several people, all of whom were strangely willing to catch her and set her on her feet politely.

Still, it took her a moment to focus enough to identify the bastard who had struck her. It was the blond monstrosity of a man. She snatched up her blades and got ready to defend as he made to come at her again – before she was shoved backwards by the unmistakable form of Raphael.

"Hun," he snarled from between gritted teeth. "I thought I'd killed you already."

"You missed," the behemoth snarled, motioning to the huge chunk missing from his neck. "But you were young. There's plenty of time for me to teach you… a thing or two."

"I've gotta take care of this piece o'garbage," Raph hissed at her. "I'll meet up with you as soon as I can."

She reached out and squeezed his arm. "I'll kill you if you die."

He shot her a quick grin over his shoulder. "Ah, Julie, you gush."

And she ran off into the crowd, her blades flashing out, though she found herself looking over her shoulder to make sure Raph was still okay.

********************************

Angela had known Leo for almost two years. She had seen him happy, depressed, sick, excited, content, annoyed, and angry. But she had never seen him like this. His intense brown eyes were glowing. Really and truly glowing with fury.

Her friend was, as Julietta and Raph would say, really damned pissed off.

He hadn't allowed the woman Karai to retreat, instead viciously pushing her back harder and harder, his swords somehow managing to find all the little nonexistent gaps in her defense – unfortunately she was very well trained herself and wasn't letting his blades do anything more than giving her slender scratches everywhere on her body. Karai was bleeding freely but at this rate Leo was going to tire out before she did. He wasn't really paying attention to this enemy anyway, he was watching the Shredder approach his exhausted father.

She knew what she had to do.

*******************************

Leo was seeing red. There was just no other explanation for the sheer rage that was roaring through him and no matter what he did to calm himself, it wasn't helping. He knew being angry fighting this woman was going to get him killed but he just couldn't control himself.

Damn it. This was exactly why you didn't fight angry – the only people he had ever seen fight angry and get out alive and more or less unharmed were Julietta and Raph! His latest slash had slung a fraction of an inch too wide, but he knew that it would be an open invitation to a swordsman like the one he was facing.

Why the hell had he been so stupid? He demanded of himself even as the blade shot straight for his neck. He moved to parry, but he knew it would do no good.

_Clang_

What the?

For a second, Leo couldn't quite process what he was seeing. Then he recognized the saber that had snaked between him and Karai and thrown off a blow that should have killed him. And then he stumbled back in utter shock as Angela stepped between them and faced the other woman calmly. Thankfully, Karai seemed too shocked to do much other than stare.

"I believe your father requires your assistance, Prince Leonardo," the young noblewoman said in her coolest and calmest voice, the one she used only when she was about to freak out. Angela then turned her attention to the gaping Karai. "I think this is something that we can work out ourselves, don't you agree Lady Karai?"

At the sound of her name, the ninja warrior snarled and made to go around the blonde. "Get out of my way!"

Angela easily blocked her. "No."

Leo found himself staring into her silvery eyes. "Get a hold of yourself, Leonardo. Do you really think getting angry is going to help you at all?"

This brought him out of his anger haze as neatly and quickly as a bucket of ice water in the face.

She gave him her gentle smile. "Good luck, my friend."

He was about to say something to her, but Karai had gotten fed up of being ignored and made an impatient swipe at Angela's slender neck. His friend's attention completely usurped by this, he could only whisper a quick prayer to whatever god might be listening to keep her safe.

Then his eyes hardened. The Shredder wasn't going to get away with anything he had brought upon their home. He was going to pay with his life.

****************************

Zoey darted through the chaos of the battlefield, looking for Mikey. She was no longer interested in fighting the people rushing past her, eyes wide with panic. She needed to find Mikey.

What the hell had she been thinking? She was a coward!! A damn coward!!!

How the hell could she have let Mikey go off alone? He was a powerful fighter but… she had to be there with him. She had to make sure that he would be alright.

As she fought her way through the crowd, Zoey realized that the number of the fighters seemed to have doubled. But the newcomers did not seem to have any interest fighting her, in fact, they seemed more interested in fighting the invaders.

EEP! Her foot went into a hole and there was nasty pop. She gasped with pain and shock as she fell to make a face plant in the earth.

What?

A huge dark hand had closed around her arm and kept her from falling. She whipped around to see who had helped her and found herself face to face with a strange black man with clear grey eyes.

"Are you alright, Lady Zoey?" he asked, pulling her upright.

"Ummm… yes… Who are you?"

"I am a member of the Royal Guard," the man said. "They called me Silver. Where are the king and his sons?"

Zoey's head was seriously spinning. "What are you talking about?" She took a step back. "Leave me alone, I've gotta find Mikey!"

She forced herself to run as her ankle throbbed terribly.

What was going on?

*********************************

Gwen looked desperately around for the unmistakable figure of a giant turtle with a bag thrown over one shoulder and swinging his bo around like a farmer scything down his wheat. But there was nothing – the only sign that Donny was still alright were the continuing bangs around the ring of people around Master Splinter and the Shredder.

"Donny!" she screamed as she ran.

********************************

He couldn't believe this. This wasn't possible. No. No this wasn't happening. He was dreaming. This was a dream.

But Master Splinter in danger wasn't a dream. His brothers fighting for their lives wasn't a dream. Gwen screaming his name wasn't a dream.

And neither was the charging figure of the corrupted alchemist Baxter Stockman.

Donny didn't hesitate in hurling his entire bag filled with exploding balls – he seriously had to come up with a better name for these – into the man's face and diving to a safer distance. The blast nearly deafened him and threw him off his feet.

It was a long moment before he could pick himself up to face what was left of Stockman. It wasn't much. Half of his face was gone, revealing the white bone of his skull, one of his eyes was gone, one of his metal arms had been torn off and huge chunks were missing from his chest. His legs were practically useless, and dragged terribly on the ground. His one remaining arm however was whole and still very dangerous. Donny knew that that metal monstrosity could crush him like a bug if he let it catch him. And sadly, he had to get within grabbing distance to fight Stockman at all. His tools and inventions were gone in the explosion, and the only other way to deal with him would have been Gwen's bow and arrows. But he had tricked her into letting him get away.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. She would be out of danger and she wouldn't see what was about to –

No. He wasn't going to think about that until he absolutely had to.

But now that he couldn't see her – he was driving himself crazy wondering if she was alright. Why was she crying for him? Was she just worried for him or was she – gulp – in trouble? She hadn't trained as long as they had and it was quite possible that she had been caught by a more skilled opponent. But… she wouldn't have been able to keep yelling for help if she was in really bad trouble, right?

He had to think that or he wouldn't be able to focus enough to defeat this guy.

Taking a deep breath, he bolted forward to begin his fight with Dr. Stockman.

The one huge arm swung at him with eye-blurring speed but Donny was nothing if not clever. He darted to the side, out of the arm's reach, and leapt into the air, whirling his bo through the air to build up momentum and –

ARGH!!!

The metal arm caught him, but he still managed to land a blow into his enemy's chest. And lo and behold, a huge dent appeared in the chest plate. The hand tightened its grip, but Donny wasn't about to be deterred by a little pain. Gathering his remaining strength, he slammed the tip of his bo straight into the dent he had already created.

Nothing happened.

Stockman laughed hysterically. "Did you really think that was going to stop me, Donatello?"

"Did you forget that I made that?" Donny gasped. "I know its weak spot. Now it's just a matter of who falls first."

"_What are you talking about?!"_

***********************************

Julietta had positioned herself where she could easily see Raph fighting that huge caveman who called himself Hun. Not that the name didn't suit him.

But that wasn't important right now. What mattered now was the fact the world seemed to have gone to hell around her. The number of people seemed to have increased. The flames still twisted and lashed out over head and water froze under enemy feet, but the sand no longer pulled at the intruders' weapons and no wind buffeted them around. That couldn't be good. Where were Donny, Gwen, Mikey and Zoey?

She caught the flash of a nunchuk and took a moment to punch down a snarling villager to get a good look at the person in question. Mikey? Nope, just a bunch of those strange people who had suddenly shown up and started fighting the intruders.

There was no sign of the others anywhere.

And then there was the fact that just a few seconds ago she had seen Leo soar over about two dozen people's heads to distract the Shredder's attention from the prone figure of Master Splinter.

And of course there was the fact that the turtle she lo… um, _liked_… Hell, Raph was fighting a goddamned giant and she could do nothing to help. If she tried to step in she would just be in the way. Julietta knew that perfectly well, but she still wished there was something she could do. She settled for keeping the remaining invaders away from Raph's fight.

These thoughts came to an abrupt halt when a red-faced gypsy shoved himself in front of her. She resisted the urge to take off his head. "RAUL! Get it through your damn head! I am not going to marry you!"

The bloodshot eyes didn't so much as blink. "What makes you think I'd want to marry a demon?"

_That_ took her by surprise. "What?"

"What other explanation is there for a woman who would prefer to stay with a demon like that than with a man like me?"

Hot fury burned through her veins. "Don't you dare call Raph a demon. He's more of a man than you ever were."

Raul screamed like a wild animal and jerked his long sword from its scabbard. "You'll pay for that!"

*******************************

He staggered through the masses, searching for the strange scent that he encountered earlier. He had been curious about it but the monster had forced him to attack the strange creature. It was a shame. He had wanted to speak to it. Not that it would have understood him in his present condition.

The creature had been with another creature with fine auburn hair and eyes like green gemstones. What were those called? He could not remember. There was much that he could not remember these days.

He knew he had once been human. But that had been long ago.

So long ago…

There! This was where the scent was coming from!

But… the creature he now faced was different. And the scent was slightly different. But it was the creature.

The eyes were the same.

Fury boiled up within him, unbidden. The monster had given him the order to kill these creatures and he must obey. So he roared and swung a taloned forearm at the creature. It dodged away with greater speed than he had seen it display before.

"Whoa!" the creature cried, holding up its hands. "It's okay, big guy! I don't want to fight you!"

I don't want to fight you either, he wanted to say, but all he was able to do was growl darkly and make another swipe at the creature's chest.l

"I know you don't want to do this! C'mon, dude! It's your body! Take control of it!"

Didn't this creature know he wanted to? Did it think he enjoyed being the slave to the monster they called the Shredder?

He roared again and made to lunge at the creature. He did not want this. He did not want to kill this creature. He did not want to kill the creature's pretty companion. But the monster had demanded it and he must obey.

But… it _was_ his body, wasn't it? Perhaps not as it had once been, but it was still his body… His claws came to a halt and he stared at the slender creature.

A gravelly voice he didn't recognize spewed forth from his mouth. "Wh-who aaaaare y-you?"

The creature gave him a great smile that was reflected in his bright blue eyes. "The name's Mikey! What's your name?"

It took a long moment for him to sort out his tongue and his thoughts enough to croak out an answer. "MMMMMMMMmmy na-aaaaaaaame issssss L-leatherhead."

"Nice to meetcha!"

************************************

"Donny!" Gwen screamed as she watched the flames of the newest – and biggest – explosion disappear behind the cloud of dust.

"Look out, Gwen!"

She swung round to see a powerful hand close on the front of her gown and lift her clear off her feet.

A man with long black hair and dark blue eyes gazed at her wildly, in his other fist he held a struggling woman with dark red hair and green eyes who was practically tearing at his arm in her attempts to escape. "What the flippin' hell is goin' on here!"

It took her only a second to recognize him. It was the one who had come into the grounds over a month ago – the one who had nearly killed Donny and Raph! "YOU!"

**Ah, the chaos of battle. Hope you enjoyed!**

**REVIEW and I'll give you another chapter by tomorrow night.**


	37. Broken

**Alright... so this is a little later than I'd hoped but I couldn't get it to sound right. **

**Here we go!**

**PS: Don't expect anything for at least two weeks. **

Chapter 36

Broken?

"_OOOOOOO! He's in big trouble!"_

"_Yes he was."_

Gwen screeched loudly and kicked at the intruder. "You brought them here, didn't you?! We told you not to come back!"

The man holding her looked more than a little confused. "You _want_ to stay with these freaks –"

She kicked at him again. "Don't you dare call them freaks!!"

He stared at her in bewilderment. "But… you're under a spell – we can help you to escape…"

"The only person I want to escape from is you! Now let us go!"

The red haired girl hissed at him like an angry goose. "You pathetic excuse for a man! _You_ are the one who attacked _our_ home and you're saying someone else is a monster?!"

Faced with two very angry girls, the man released them and raised his hands in surrender. "Whoa. So you guys aren't under a spell?"

"_NO!"_

"Not anymore!"

This immediately attracted both Gwen and the guy's attention. "What?"

"Who are you, anyway?" Gwen wanted to know. "I've never seen you around here and you don't look like an intruder." She gave the man a deadly look.

The girl shuffled her feet. "I'm a maid in the castle."

"Maid? There were no maids – just the… the… Were you the sand?" Gwen couldn't believe what she was suggesting. But it did make sense – in a weird, convoluted sort of way.

"Ummm… yes. You see, when Prince Donatello –"

"Oh my God!" Gwen cried. "DONNY!"

Without another word, she spun on her heel and sprinted away from the two.

This left Casey Jones standing confused as hell in the dark with a girl he didn't know. Unsure of anything else to say, he turned to the girl, "Uh… so… my name's Casey Jones. What's yours? Can you tell me what's going on here?"

"Well –"

**********************************

It was funny. When she had fought Raul before, Julietta had never known him to be so skilled. In the friendly sparring matches he had been a bit of a klutz and screw up.

Go figure, now that she had to fight him for real, he was an expert warrior. He fought with a curving scimitar in one hand and a short stabbing knife in the other. She quickly learned that she could not lock swords with him, as he had the nasty tendency to stab at her whenever she got too close. The only way to kill him would be to slash at him from a distance, but his reflexes were too good. She could throw a sword at him and hope it connected but that would leave her vulnerable.

What the hell was she going to –

Whoops. Dodging that slash would be a fabulous idea!

She fell to her knees and kicked viciously at his legs, only to have to quickly draw them back in again to avoid his blade trying to cut them off. She jumped upright and circled her opponent warily. He didn't like Raph did; while Raph was usually pretty good about not using his superior strength to crush her – not that he ever pulled any punches – Raul was obviously not above doing whatever he had to do to win. He definitely wasn't the chivalrous type.

He slashed at her throat, but she turned away quickly.

She needed a plan. Now, preferably.

He followed up his knife strike with his longer ranged sword, forcing her to back up. This was made difficult by the fact that he had just kicked at her hard in the stomach. She went down hard.

He bore down hard on her – and this was no dream. There was no wolf to save her here.

She drew in her long legs and kicked upwards hard. An agonizing pain shot through her leg even as she kicked him off her and over her head.

Julietta drew herself back to her feet, grimacing at the feel of blood trickling down her right leg. The servants had been right when they had forced these things on her – without them she'd be missing a leg (not that she had any intention of telling them that). As it was, she was in a terrible amount of pain and she had to use one of her _kopis_ blades to lever herself to her feet.

Okay. That was it. _No nice girl._

Time to, as Raph said: Release the bitch.

Ignoring the torture of her leg and the burning in her hands, she lunged forward, parrying his sword with one hand, and locking the hilt of her other sword with the hilt of his knife. Raul immediately began ruthlessly pushing down, his mangled face inches from hers.

Now or never.

She made to spit in his face and when he averted his face, she twisted her wrists and the hilts of her swords. His weapons spun out of his hands and when he staggered back in shock, she cut out his legs with graceful slashes of her blades. His back hit the dirt and his eyes were wide with terror.

Julietta did not loosen her grip on her swords as she slammed her injured leg down on his chest. Ramming one of her _kopis_ down into ground right besides his neck, she grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged his face up towards her.

"Now, you bastard, you'd better listen, because you aren't getting' another chance. You are going to leave here. You are going to leave and never come back. If I so much as catch one sight of your face ever again, I will kill you with me bare hands. Now get out."

She released him roughly and watched as he got up and staggered away. Groaning, she turned away and began limping away to find Raph.

The young gypsy had barely made it five paces when she sensed something coming up behind her.

She spun around.

What happened next came in strange flashes.

Glint of silver.

Broken nose.

A tiny, shriveled figure.

Her _kopis_ stabbing forward.

Blood spilling over her fingers.

A lot of blood.

She found herself on her back, pinned under Raul's dead weight, her _kopis _protruding from his back.

"Julietta! Child, what are you doing?"

Julietta paused in her struggle to lift the body off of her in order to peer around to see who is was who had spoken. She got quite a shock.

"_Granma?"_

********************************

Angela traded blows with the Princess Karai. This girl was an incredible swordswoman. Her strikes were faster than any snake's.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, pushing the intruder off of her.

"You have dishonored my country!" the young woman snarled, snapping out a spin kick as she stepped away. "You'll pay with your life!"

"Of course," Angela groaned, blocking the kick. It was going to be a long night.

*****************************

Zoey darted through the battlefield. Except now it could no longer be called a battlefield; most of the invaders were running for the gates and away from the newer streams of warriors that were randomly appearing out of the shadows.

Not that she was really paying any attention to any of this, she was more concerned with finding Mikey.

She had to make a quick detour around a huge metal… thing – was this thing supposed to be a person? – trying to crush something (it looked kinda like a person) several feet off the ground.

Unimportant.

Except –

_BANG_

The metal thing exploded.

It felt as though one of the horses had hit her square in the back, throwing her off her feet. She flew through the air and managed to twist through the air and land on her feet. And it would have been alright if something very solid and tangible hadn't hit her in the spine, bowling her over.

She landed on her front and skidded forward painfully, only to be stopped when a large stone fell onto her foot with a dull – and very, _very_, painful – thunk.

The sound she made cut through the air like a knife.

It was only when she managed to shake herself out of the terrible fog of anguish, did she realize that the stone was pinning her foot to the ground and too heavy for her to move on her own.

Zoey Freeman was trapped.

****************************

This newest explosion stopped and redirected Gwen as suddenly and effectively as a leash yanking at her neck. She instantly changed directions and ran towards the blast. That did not sound like any of the others – it sounded like anyone too close to that was going to die.

What had happened Donny?

"Donny?" she called.

The dust from the explosion obscured everything to the point that even the fires glowing and twisting through the air couldn't pierce through its haze. She could see nothing and was forced to rely on sound. "Donny? Can you hear me?"

All she heard was a familiar groan.

***************************

Evelina braced her skinny legs and helped her granddaughter hoist off the corpse. "Come with me, Julietta! We need to get out of here!"

Julietta wasn't in the mood for giving explanations. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The old woman moved like lightning.

Whap

"OW!"

"Don't you use that language with me, young lady!"

The two women – one elderly clutching a staff with blades on both ends and another young one with double _kopis_ blades – stared at each for a long moment.

"We need to leave before the demons –"

She gritted her teeth. "Don't call them demons!"

Julietta had never seen her grandmother speechless but she was too angry to really notice. "Why does everyone keep callin' 'em that?!"

"What do you mean? Isn't that one right there?"

She turned.

The huge man called Hun was standing stock still, staring at the sais protruding from his neck, blood spurting out even as he fell. About five feet away from him knelt Raphael, yanking a huge sword from his plastron with one hand while the other stayed stubbornly in the throwing position. The blade he was removing from his chest was covered with blood.

The same blood pouring from the hole in his chest and down his body.

The wild, angry look on his face did not change even as he collapsed over onto his shell.

Julietta could not remember ever screaming as loudly as she did right then.

************************************

"Hello?" Zoey hissed into the dusty haze. "Is somebody there?"

She didn't want to call out too loudly for fear of attracting an enemy.

An enemy.

Zoey had never had enemies until she had come here. But then… she had never met anyone like Mikey before she came here.

He was worth it.

"Is that you, Z?"

Her heart lifted. "Mikey?"

"Yeah, it's me! Where are you?"

"I'm over here!"

"I can't see you, the fog's too thick! Can you come towards me?"

"No! I'm stuck!"

"Okay, hold on, I'm coming!"

For the next minute, Zoey sat helplessly pinned under the stone slab, chattering away so Mikey could follow her voice. Finally, she spotted a figure coming at her through the thick dust. "Mikey? Is that you?"

His voice floated back to her. "Yeah! I think I can see you!"

She let go of the rock and waved her arms vigorously through the air. "I'm over here! Over here! No! Your left! Your other left, silly!"

"I see you! Hang on!"

And quite suddenly her arms froze in the air. That wasn't Mikey.

That wasn't even a turtle.

Or a rat.

It was a human.

Zoey fumbled desperately to get to her feet and, failing that, tried to find something to use as a weapon. Her fingers closed around a stone.

And then, all at once, the imposter was kneeling beside her.

"Z? Are you okay?"

This was… what did Gwen call it? Surreal. Yeah. That was it.

This was the boy from the portrait in the main hall.

She stared at him, baffled. He had Mikey's voice… but… but… he was… human!

"Who are you?"

The young man drew back a bit. "It's me, Z! Doncha recognize me?"

She could only shake her head no.

He laughed. "C'mon, Z! You know me! How many other talking turtles do you know?"

"You're not a turtle."

And he wasn't. He had the sun-bleached blond hair that was lighter at the top than at the bottom. His bright, crystal blue eyes – Mikey's eyes! – gleamed in a tanned face with freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. The smile that was slowly fading was the biggest and best she had ever seen, framed by cute dimples.

He laughed weakly. "Whoa, I must be covered in more dust than I thought –"

And he looked down at himself.

His eyes bugged out.

He ran his tanned human, five-fingered, hands through his wiry blond hair, across his face, down his chest, and along his lean legs. "I… I'm… human again…"

They spent several full seconds staring at his human body, covered in sturdy brown trousers, thick leather boots, and a white shirt. Around his forehead was a familiar orange bandana and at his belt were two nunchuks.

Could this be true?

Something clicked.

"What do you mean, 'human _again_'?"

Mikey was still examining his changed form and did not answer immediately. "A while ago, that guy the Shredder cursed me and my brothers. He said the only way to break the spell was if a girl…"

His freckled cheeks went pink as he trailed off.

"So… you're really Mikey?"

He grinned at her and tugged her bangs in a very Mikeyesque way. "Yup! Um… you said you were stuck?"

"What? Oh yes! This rock is crushing my foot."

"Okay, hold on." He grabbed the stone and heaved.

Zoey gasped as the rock ground against her injured foot. "That hurts!"

His hand closed gently on her knee. "Zoey? I'm gonna try to lift this thing of you. You move your foot as fast as you can, okay?"

"Okay."

He braced his shoulders and heaved. The rock lifted.

She dragged her foot away.

Mikey let it drop and it fell with a solid thump.

"Thanks," she said, trying to stand.

"Whoa!" He caught her as her leg gave beneath her and she sagged against his chest.

It was strange to lean against yielding flesh instead of hard plates. She ran a wondering hand over his chest.

And blinked as his hand closed over hers.

She looked up nervously. He was still taller than her.

His eyes became rather confused as he scooped her off her feet. "Ummm… we'd better find the others."

But Zoey had waited long enough.

She reached up and grabbed the young man firmly and tugged his lips down to hers. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, especially when she tilted her head a little to the side.

On the whole, it felt pretty damn good.

**NEXT!!!!**


	38. Rising Panic

**Alrighty! The jet lag is still killing me but your update is here.**

**But remember this as you're reading this: If you kill me for the way this chapter ends, I can't finish the story!!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 37

Rising Panic

"_AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW!" squealed the girls and women._

"_Did it really happen that way?" one of the younger girls whispered._

"_Yup!" the storyteller assured them solemnly._

"_Really?" demanded one of the smaller boys. "There was really a great battle?"_

"_Yup," she said again. "And then –"_

Evelina of the Baldino clan had raised her granddaughter Julietta ever since her parents had died in a smallpox epidemic more than fifteen years ago. She and her husband had watched the toddler grow into a wild, barefooted child who fought anyone who challenged her and then into a fierce young woman who ran with horses more than she ran with humans.

She had seen her beat the living shit out of boys twice her size, weight, and age. She had seen her at her best and worst.

But Evelina had never seen Julietta like this.

And I never want to see her like this again, she thought as her granddaughter sprinted to the motionless creature's side, screaming the whole way.

************************************

Angela gasped as the light from the fire servants twisting through the air went out suddenly as the flaming entities darted away like fiery lightning. Her saber paused in its dance as she watched the blaze fly away into the darkness.

Karai also, thankfully, seemed thrown by the abrupt darkness.

Her momentary relief was not shared by Leo who, as soon as the lights dimmed, literally stopped his fight with the Shredder and howled. "_RAPH!"_

This, accompanied by a sudden outburst of terrible screaming, served to jolt her forcibly back to reality and she dove through the shadows to reengage Lady Karai in battle.

***********************************

Zoey had had no intention of getting herself loose from Mikey's pleasant embrace. After all, the others were competent fighters who could hold their own and Leo – the best warrior of any of them – was defending Master Splinter. But when the flames in the distance had darted away to gather in one spot Mikey had broken the kiss and stood so fast that he dumped her out of his lap.

"Ooof!"

His blue eyes settled on her, wide with panic. "Something's going on with Raph!"

He swooped down and threw her up into his arms and sprinted off towards the fire. Zoey yelped and grabbed onto his shoulders to steady herself.

"What do you mean? How can you tell?"

"I just know! And I also know that we've gotta hurry!"

**********************************

Casey Jones had never heard such a crazy story.

"So let me get this straight. Those turtles I saw are actually princes who were cursed by the Shredder? And when they were cursed, the rest of the… kingdom was cursed too?"

The girl who had introduced herself as April O'Neal nodded vigorously. "Yes!"

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard! Why the hell would the Shredder want to curse them?" Casey had barely finished his exclamation when the girl immediately treated him to what felt like a broken kneecap.

"How dare you!! That monster cursed our princes!" The girl set her dainty, but stubborn chin. "And I'll prove it to you! C'mon! I'll show you the Prince Donatello!"

Casey didn't even have time to protest before April grabbed his arm and dragged him away into the dust, ignoring the fact that her prisoner was hopping painfully on only one foot.

**********************************

If Gwen had thought that stumbling around searching for the source of the groaning was bad before, she had not realized just how bad it could be. The lights had vanished as the fire streamed away. She wondered what that could be, but judging on Leo's sudden yelling, she didn't think it could be anything good.

But she would have to put off looking for the source of all the commotion later. After she found Donny and beat the living daylights out of him – he couldn't be doing well after being that close to such a big explosion.

Bumbling through the darkness like a blind man finally led her to the trunk of a great tree that had been blasted by the bomb so hard that it now leaned to the left. Setting her hands flush against the rough bark, Gwen recognized the feel of one the cherry trees that flanked the path to the gates. Turning so that her back was pressed against the wood, she cupped her hands around her mouth – this was where Donny had run to, wasn't it? – and called as loudly as she dared.

"Donny? Where are you? Are you alright?"

Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness. She could now make out the markings two very large explosives had cut deeply into the ground. One outline she recognized as one telltale to her and Donny's bombs, but the other looked like something that marked one of the walls of Donny's workshop where their prototype designed to make artificial light had exploded in their face four months ago. It looked like the blast area of a machine having gone wrong.

In the center was a hunk of what looked like the remains of a… metal man? Yes… if he had been missing a few things when he had been blown apart… There was a twisted leg… a flattened arm… and – her heart seemed to shrivel a bit in her breast – a huge splattering of blood around the metal torso and where the neck should have given way to the head.

There didn't seem to be anything around there… but she knew she had heard someone groan. And not just anyone. Donny.

"Donny?"

Another groan.

A sound of a body dragging through dirt.

Then –

"Gwennie?"

It was Donny.

_It was him!!_

She spun for a moment, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. "Where are you?"

"Jus'…follow m'voice…"

Gwen winced. His voice was slurring. That couldn't be good.

But his voice was coming from somewhere on her left. Feeling her way through the semi-darkness, she found herself amazed – all that ninjitsu training was paying off! She wasn't tripping at all!

Pride goeth before the fall, she scolded herself even as she caught sight of a shadowy figure struggling to prop himself up on the trunk of a cherry tree across the path.

"Donny!" She rushed forward a few steps before the full impact of what she was seeing hit her.

A young man was leaning back against the tree, looking straight at her.

Gwen fervently wished she had her arrows. As it was, she gripped her bow firmly and cautiously approached. All the while she examined this stranger.

He was very slender with slick muscle rounding out his lean body. His clothes – a purple shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and brown trousers – were very worn and torn and his boots were so scuffed it was hard to tell what their original color had been. He seemed to have light brown hair pushed out of his face and pale brown eyes. Blood was making its way steadily down the middle of his forehead and around his nose to drip off his chin.

A feeling of familiarity crashed over her so powerfully that she halted abruptly.

They looked at each other silently for a moment before the boy spoke. "Gwen? It's me."

Was this some kind of a trick? Was he just trying to lure her closer?

But… he sounded just like Donny and those eyes…

Her feet carried her closer and she found herself kneeling beside the stranger.

A familiar staff lay sideways across his lap but he made no attempt to raise it and attack. His pale brown eyes smiled at her. "Hi, Gwennie."

Heart beating very fast, she released one of her hands' firm grip on her bow and reached out to touch his cheek. "Donny?"

He looked back at her quietly. "Gwen."

She said nothing else as she stared at him. The light brown hair, the fair skin, the purple bandana hanging around his neck, the staff, and the eyes.

Hazel met pale brown.

"It _is _you!" she gasped, sitting back hard. "How –? I thought…?"

He smiled at her and stretched out his own hand to stroke her cheek. That gesture alone settled her doubts, the gentleness and that smile… it could be no one else.

"Donny!" She dove forward and threw her arms around his neck.

"Owowowowowowowow!" he yelped.

Gwen drew back in horror. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Donny gave her a weak smile and drew out a glass ball from one of his pockets. It was cracked but nevertheless gave off a steady glow. He held it up to his face and she gasped.

There was quite a lot of blood in his hair, and his pupils were disturbingly enlarged. "Can't b'sure," he slurred. "But… think I have a co'cussion." He waved the light in the direction of his abdomen. "Pretty sure… I have some broken… um… what's the word?"

"Ribs?"

He nodded slowly and winced. "Yeah."

Before he could say anything else, Gwen had ripped a sizable piece of her skirt and used one part to dab carefully at his head injury. As soon as the blood began seeping into the cloth she began to babble.

"Are you alright? Of course you aren't. Are there any other wounds? Is there any other pain? Damn it, why didn't I think of bringing my healing instruments? Donny, are you –"

A soft touch halted her words. Donny grinned at her. "You've got to be alright if you're babbling."

She moved away from the fingers on her lips and he shrugged helplessly. "It hurts to move too much. Otherwise, I'd have kissed you already."

Gwen's tongue ran over her lips unconsciously and she leaned in. "It doesn't hurt too much for me."

"Gently," he teased, even as his hand slid around to the back of neck to pull her in. "I'm an invalid."

Well, was her last coherent thought, he certainly wasn't kissing like one.

*****************************

Ugh.

What the hell had happened?

It felt like that one time when Demonio and Dancer had trampled over him. If they had had knives in place of hooves.

And try as he might, he couldn't open his eyes. And it wasn't because he wanted to keep them closed. There was a goddamn war going on around him – so why the hell was he freakin' laying here like a corpse?

He could hear, as though from a great distance away, someone talking to him desperately. Begging him to open his eyes. Normally he would've been keeping his eyes closed just to spite this whoever it was – but he knew he knew this voice.

This voice… it was important to him…

Julietta…?

He pictured her thick dark curls tied up in a red bandana, her flashing black eyes, and her wicked smile. How she had looked in that dress…

Beautiful.

Even as he thought about her, a strange and terrible realization slipped to the front of his mind.

Was that right?

Well, if it was – and he knew that it was – he had to open his eyes and talk to the girl leaning over him.

He had to tell her that…

With the greatest effort he could ever remember exerting, Raph opened his eyes.

He sure as hell wasn't going to die without telling that bitch – that annoying, pain in the ass, powerful, beautiful, funny, intelligent bitch – that he loved her.

**And yes, the first and last part of that sentence was entirely correct.**

**And now:**

**DON'T KILL ME! YOU'VE GOTTA UNDERSTAND! SOMEONE HAD TO DIE!!!**

**Ahem, now please review so you can complain about Raph's impending death.**


	39. Hellfire

**Alrighty! Here's my newest work of art.**

**Hope you like how it ends!**

Chapter 38

Hellfire

_The children were pressed against the storyteller._

"_He was dying?" _

"_Yes," she said solemnly._

"_But she got to him in time, didn't he? I mean… he didn't really die, did he?"_

"_Why don't we let her finish the story? Then we'll know what happened."_

The only indication she got that she had reached Raph's side was a sudden burning in her knees as she skidded to a halt beside him. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, cheeks, neck and everywhere else, but she didn't care.

It was hard to care about anything when your heart felt like it was just going to stop.

Julietta swallowed painfully. There was so much _blood_. It seemed almost impossible that one person could actually hold all of it.

She could sense her grandmother hovering uncertainly just behind her, but she frankly didn't give a flying rat's ass.

"Raph? Can you hear me?" she whispered. "Raph?"

Even though she knew it wasn't the best idea when he was so badly injured, she began shaking him lightly. At the sudden increase of his bleeding, she tore off most of her skirt and pressed it against his wound.

"Open your eyes right now, you lazy son of a bitch!"

Her anger was almost immediately put down by the appearance of the dark stain spreading throughout the make shift bandage. "Raph, please wake up! Please? For me?"

Julietta almost laughed. Why the hell had she said that? They were barely even friends, what right did she have to say that?

As if she didn't know.

There!

He had twitched.

She leaned in hopefully as, very slowly, his golden eyes opened just a crack. "Raph?"

He groaned, closed his eyes, and then managed to open them up all the way. "Hey, Jules."

The annoying nickname had never been so welcome. "Thank God. Look at you, you look like shit."

He chuckled weakly. "Kind as always, Jules."

"Don't move," she ordered quickly. "I've gotta stop the bleedin'."

She pressed harder down on the wound.

"Don't bother," he rasped out. "It won't make a difference."

"What are you babbling about?" she demanded, leaning her onto the injury firmly, trying to stem the bleeding. "If you're about to start complaining that this hurts, then you can just man up and keep your mouth shut!"

Normally, this would have been enough to send Raph leaping to his feet to yell at her and defend his so-called 'manliness', but now he only smirked a bit.

"We both know that's not gonna be enough."

"What are you talking about?"

"Turtles die from – _cough cough_ – bleeding to death just like humans."

"So?" She was not going there. She _was not_ going there!

"Stop acting like you don't… understand… Doesn't suit you… We both know… I'm not gonna make it."

"Don't be an idiot – you're too much of an ass to die."

He wasn't angry or annoyed or teasing or content or even concerned – he was serious. It scared her.

"Julietta. It's no use." Raph tried to sit up, but failed, falling back coughing up blood.

A needle of panic stabbed at her stomach. "I'm not going to let you die, Raph."

"Julietta," her grandmother was saying quietly behind her. "The poor creature's got internal bleeding. There's nothing you can do for him anymore."

He craned his neck painfully. "Who's that?"

"My grandmother. Evelina. But you can meet her after we get you up."

He ignored her and spoke to Evelina. "Hey, ma'am. You raised a hell of a woman."

"Thank you…"

"Stop moving! You're gonna bleed to death!"

"Nothin's gonna stop that now."

She growled and turned to her grandmother. "Don't you have anything to help?"

Evelina hurried around to kneel on Raph's other side and help try to staunch the bleeding.

"I should tell you. You're… you're beautiful y'know. Really beautiful… I keep… thinkin' about you in that dress."

Julietta managed a very weak smile. "That blood loss must really be rotting your brain."

But she couldn't deny that he was getting weaker; he was no longer lifting his head from the ground when he spoke, merely lolling his head around to look at whoever he was talking to.

"And – _cough_ – there's… one more thing… I've gotta tell ya… before –"

Her voice shook. "You're no gonna die, Raph. I won't let you."

"Shut up, Jules," he ordered quietly. "I gotta finish this. I… I… you… you mean a lot… everythin' to me. I'm glad I met you... and everythin' that happened, happened."

Her eyes burned with tears. "What the hell are you saying?!"

She turned on her grandmother. "Go find a girl or a turtle dressed in purple! The girl'll have a bow and arrows and the turtle'll have a staff. Bring 'em back here! Tell 'em Raph's in trouble!"

Evelina hesitated.

"GO!"

She went.

But now Julietta had a new problem: Raph looked as though he was going to fall asleep.

"Raph! Stay awake! Don't you dare close your eyes!"

The gypsy girl was now practically straddling him, her whole weight now pressing upon the injury. Alternately yelling and begging, she was half-blind with panic. "Don't die, please don't die! Raph, you can't die on me after all this. You can't do this to me!"

His eyes were now golden slits against his green skin as he looked at her. "Sorry for bein' so mushy… but… I'm glad I got to see you – _cough _– before I –"

She punctuated each word with a push against his chest. "_No! No! No!_ Don't die! Don't you dare die on me after all this, you bastard!"

Her hands were sore and bleeding, her leg ached terribly as blood trickled down into her boot. But that didn't matter. None of it mattered except Raph.

"Julietta? Jules?"

Hot tears burned their way down her cheeks. "Yeah?"

"I… I… think… I… I love you…"

She shook her head desperately from side to side. "Why are you telling me this?"

What might have been a shrug made his shoulders twitch. "So you know."

She released her grip on the cloth to grab his hand frantically. "I'm not letting you go! Do y'hear me, you idiot? I'm not letting go!"

He squeezed her hand gently. "Look after the others… I… I love…"

And then he was looking straight through her, his big hand limp in hers.

"Raph? _Raph! Wake up!"_ She shook his still body and looked wildly over her shoulder. How the hell could it take so long to find a giant turtle with a purple bandana? And God knew there weren't too many girls running through the mess of people – even less who carried a bow. "HURRY UP!"

There was no sign of anyone coming to help. There was only what looked like the entire host of flame servants hovering around her and Raph.

With a strangled sob, she turned back to her companion. "Damn it! You can't fuckin' do this to me!"

Julietta pounded her fist on his plastron, right over his heart, and tried to breathe into his mouth.

No response.

An image of her latest dream came back to her:

_It was the biggest wildcat she had ever seen in her life. Taller than she was, the creature opened its mouth to show off gleaming rows of serrated fangs as long as her hunting knife._

_Just as she had countless times in other dreams, Julietta had unsheathed her gleaming kopis blades and readied herself for a fight._

_And, as always, the wolf leapt in front of her, mane bristling and teeth bared._

_The fight that ensued was the most terrible yet, but at last one of her blades found the blasted thing's heart as the wolf ripped out its throat and its head fell like a rock besides its body. _

_Gasping for breath, she had turned to look for her wolf._

_And there he had been, trying to rise from the dirt. Blood poured from a gaping hole in his stomach where the cat had taken a vicious chunk out of him._

_Gasping, she scrambled over to him and stroked his fur soothingly. "Easy there boy, it's gonna be okay."_

_He lifted his head and gave her hand a weak lick._

_Then he put his head down and sighed._

_He didn't breathe again. Just lay there looking up at her with glazed golden eyes._

_She woke up screaming._

"Damn it! Crap! Shit! Fuck!!" She screeched through her entire, and very extensive, list of curses as she continued her desperate fight to get him to breathe again, tears searing their way down her cheeks like acid.

Not again. Not again.

"_Damn you! Don't you understand anything?!"_ she screamed, slamming her fist over his heart. "You are such a stupid asshole!"

The anger seemed to drain from her lithe body, taking with it her strength. She slumped over the still body. "I love you too."

Immediately, her rage was rekindled and she found herself flat out pummeling him. _"I love you, you stupid bastard! You son of a bitch, I was going to marry you! How the hell could you do this to me?!"_

Fresh power poured through her limbs and suddenly she found herself grabbing his wide shoulders and yanked his torso off the ground. She shook him back and forth. "Fuck you!"

Growling, she pressed her lips to his.

"Jackass," she snarled, pulling away and with surprising care, lowered him. And sobbed violently.

*******************************

Gwen had just tilted her head to get better access into Donny's mouth – she had read about this moment hundreds of times in books but they hadn't even brushed the surface on how good this could feel – when a bony hand dragged her away.

She grabbed her bow and spun around to face this new enemy, she could feel Donny tense behind her and ready his staff.

An old woman dressed as a gypsy stood before them, dark eyes anxious. "Do you know my Julietta?"

"Julietta with the kopis? Long curly brown hair? Red dress?" Donny asked over Gwen's shoulder.

"Curses like a sailor?" Gwen added.

The old woman nodded desperately. "That turtle of hers is hurt bad. She told me to find a girl or a turtle, said both would be in purple."

The two in purple traded looks and Gwen quickly leapt to her feet, grabbed Donny's arm and snapped at the woman. "Help me pull him up."

Together, the women yanked the young man to his feet and supported him between them. However, Donny wasted no time in shooing Evelina off, telling her to lead them to Raph and Julietta. And so he limped quickly along, leaning on both Gwen and his staff, as the gypsy led them through the night.

Although she was walking surprisingly fast for so old a woman, Evelina still managed to shoot questions off at them from over her shoulder.

"What about the turtle in purple?"

"Don't worry about him," Gwen informed her. "He's around."

*****************************

Warmth running smoothly over her hands. That was the first hint that Julietta, who'd had her face hidden in her arms, got that something was happening. Lifting up her eyes to see what was happening, a fierce surge of anger rushed through the young woman.

The flame servants seemed to have decided that they were going to burn Raph's body and were blazing merrily on his shell, arms, and legs, and were even now advancing towards his face.

No. Nononononononono!

They were _not_ going to do this to him!

She leaned forward to start batting at the flames with one hand while the other grabbed Raph's arm and was trying to pull him away.

Absolutely n-

What?

What the hell?

She left off beating at the fire, though she did not let go of his arm, as the flames grew in intensity and brightness. One second it was orange, then red, then gold, then white…

And then she could no longer look directly at it; she was forced to turn away, as though she had tried to look straight at the sun. Still, she held his arm as though it was her only lifeline to this world.

They aren't taking him away, she thought wildly. No way in hell!

Something was happening to the arm she was grasping… nothing she could identify… just something strange…

After what seemed like forever the light disappeared and she could look directly at Raph – though she fully expected to see nothing but a pile of ashes.

Her heart stopped.

Sort of.

Raph was gone.

Replaced.

Where his body had been just a few moments ago, there was a human young man laying flat on his back, her skirt pressed against a wound in his chest.

Julietta dropped his arm as though it was snake.

It took a minute, but she at last gathered herself to lean over him in disbelief.

This was the boy from the painting in the main hall. Except he was no longer a boy of fourteen or fifteen.

He still had the rich bronze skin of a gypsy, fine, proud features of a caravan leader and wild curly black hair that fell stubbornly in his face. There were shoulders almost as broad as Raph's and muscular arms clad in a tattered red tunic, black trousers and black boots so old they were graying.

As her gaze swept from his clothes back to his face, she noticed a bit of red under his ebony bangs. Acting on its own, her hand swept away the dark curls to stare at a red bandana tied around his forehead.

Her fingers brushed against his skin and suddenly a different set of digits caught hers in a light grip.

Raph's golden eyes were staring up at from the dark, strange face. "Could'je wait until I'm awake before you start tryin' to grope me?"

Julietta's mouth fell open even as she moved to slap the stranger – the stranger with Raph's voice – upside the head.

"Ow! Watch it, Jules, I'm still bleeding here!" And it was true. The injury was much smaller and less serious than Raph's, but it was in the exact spot as Raph's had been and bleeding slightly.

"Who the hell are you?"

The young man stared at her, one eyebrow raised.

He really was very handsome, she had to admit. Like, really, _really_ handsome.

"I'm Raph, remember? Same as I always –" He abruptly stopped talking and stared at the strand of hair hanging directly between his eyes.

"Holy shit," he breathed, sitting up slowly and staring at his hands. "I'm _me_."

She glared at him; she wasn't buying this. "Prove to me you're Raph."

He rolled his eyes at her. "You're Julietta of the Baldino clan. You showed up in our front hall when your caravan threw you in here as a virgin sacrifice. I gave you a music box last Christmas that plays that weird gypsy lullaby song.

"I'm Raphael Hamato, I have three brothers and a father. We're all adopted. I fight with double sais and I'm your training partner. I hate bugs and I can't stand it when people call me Raphie." He looked at her expectantly. "Believe me now?"

She didn't bother to answer as everything began to fall into place. "You're the guy in the portrait in the main hall."

He looked at her sharply. "How'd you know about that?"

"I went in there, you idiot! So. Let me get this straight. You used to be human."

"Yeah. Then that bastard the Shredder put a curse on us. When you said… what you did… the spell was broken."

"So you knew this was gonna happen."

Raph now looked slightly nervous; he recognized her most dangerous voice. "Yeah…"

Julietta snapped. "_And you didn't tell me about this?! Don't you think I had a right to know?! You can be such an idiot! Why –"_

And quite suddenly there was no space between them and she was too distracted by the fact that she was being kissed to come up with anything else to yell at him.

It felt strange but wonderful. Like it was calling to something deep inside her… and whatever it was trying to summon within her was answering.

Her arms slipped around his shoulders and tried to deepen it, but he suddenly broke away.

He looked at her, a smirk spreading across his face. "Whadaya know, I finally found a way to shut you up."

She tried to scowl, but she couldn't quite get the expression across her face. After a seconds, she gave up and smirked back at him. "Don't get too cocky."

She leaned forward until their noses were just brushing against each other and said, "Because it goes both ways."

The whatever it was that had been awoken before lost its patience and she pressed her lips firmly to his.

Hot damn.

Emphasis on hot.

**Now come on. Raph is my favorite turtle - did you really think I was just going to kill him off?**

**Now review, si vous plait!**

**Don't worry, Leo's situation will be explained next chapter!!**


	40. Desperation

**Alright, here's your next chapter! Sorry it's so late, but it's really hard to write Leo and not be OOC. **

**Tell me what you think!**

Chapter 39

Desperation

_"Yea!!" cried the children. "He didn't die."_

_"Yeah," agreed one of the women. "Yea."_

Casey Jones was – once again – completely bewildered. This was the only reason he was letting this April… girl drag him through the dark chaos of the battle was that she was really cute. And he was kinda curious to find out what was going on here.

They had just made their way past a nasty collection of craters when a someone – actually two someones, one was just carrying the other – came stumbling out of the darkness. It was hard to tell who they were or even what they looked like because all of the fire that had been burning brightly over their heads had suddenly gone out and now they were pushing their way through even bigger crowds than before.

April paused for a moment, raised herself up on her toes, and immediately led him off towards them, waving an arm and yelling, "Lord Mikey! Lady Zoey!"

The one carrying his friend stopped and turned to look at her. His arms tightened around his companion as he cautiously approached them.

"Do I know you?"

The girl looked at him in surprise. "Mikey, it's me! April!"

He leaned forward and squinted at her for a long moment, blue eyes focusing hard on her face. All at once, he gasped, grinned, and hugged her fiercely – despite the girl he was holding in his arms.

"Mikey!" squealed the girl, flailing a desperate hand from between them.

"ACK! Zoey!" the guy yelled. "Sorry! Are you okay?"

He turned to April. "April! This is the girl who broke the spell for me! She's my… um… girl I'm gonna marry!"

"Fiancée?"

"Uh-huh!" he nodded enthusiastically before grinning down at his companion. "Zoey, this is April, she's one of the librarians! We've known her for forever! She was one of Donny and Gwen's servants!"

Zoey blinked in confusion. "The sand?"

"Yeah…" Mikey trailed off and he narrowed his eyes at the girl standing before him. "Wait… if you're like this… then…"

His eyes got big and round and he was laughing in delight. "Then Donny's spell is broken too!"'

"Uh-huh!"

Zoey looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"That's what I want to know," Casey complained from where he had been watching all of this on the sidelines. "Will someone please explain this to me?"

"I was trying!" April snapped. "But you just wouldn't listen."

"What?"

"_Listen to me, you overgrown Neanderthal!_" April hissed, grabbing his arm so tightly it felt like she was cutting off his circulation. _"The princes used to be humans, the Shredder put a curse on them, the girls broke the curse and now they're human again. I can't explain it any clearer than I just did!"_

"Uhhhh…" Mikey said, eyes darting around uncomfortably. "We're gonna go look for Leo now… Bye April."

"I'm coming with you."

It took less than a second for Casey to follow.

Afterall, that April had one hell of an ass.

*****************************

Leo was in serious pain. As in scream out loud, fall over and clutch the offending limb and not move for a week.

But there was no time.

Master Splinter was busy cracking the skulls of the remaining ninjas trying to surround him and if Leo gave up the Shredder would move on to his father. And even though he was a master warrior, Master Splinter was getting on in years and wouldn't last another round with this mad man. As it was, the Shredder had managed to slip through his defenses and slashed open his arm.

And then there were his brothers. He thought of Raph's fire servants darting off – that could only mean one thing: Raph was in serious trouble.

Swallowing his groan of agony, the young turtle sliced the air with his katanas crossways across his chest. Just as he had hoped, the Shredder jerked backwards and gave him a clear opening for a move he had never tried against anyone except his father.

Snapping his hilts, he changed his grip on the twin swords and stabbed directly at his enemy. Behind the ghastly mask, he could see the man's eyes widen in shock. But shocking one's opponent was not enough to win; the Shredder fell to his knees and swung his blade at Leo's unprotected knees.

Years of ninja training sent the prince leaping over the ruthless attack, landing in a roll and jabbing with his weapons all the while. Not even the Shredder could block them all and Leo managed to tear open the man's left side and –

The last strike struck his foe's helmet directly and pierced it clear through.

Hoping desperately that this signaled the end of the match, Leo wrenched the cover away – only to be confronted with the face of a middle aged man, handsome face twisted into a most ugly scowl as a thin trickle of blood made its way from his temple down to his chin.

Nope.

Not over.

The Shredder gave an inarticulate howl of fury and charged the turtle, sword point first.

**********************************

"Why?" Karai hissed under her breath as she traded attacks and parries with the beautiful blond woman. "Why are you doing this?"

"Defending myself?"she panted, ducking a swipe aimed at her neck. "Because you're attacking me!"

The princess clenched her teeth. That wasn't what she meant! Why was this lovely woman, who could undoubtedly find another place to live… why would she live _here_ of all places? With _them_ of all people? Why would she fight to defend them?

The girl didn't understand her silent question, just continued to fight.

She was very good at it, too. Fighting, that was.

Karai had never fought another woman before. It was a bit more difficult – especially as this girl was fighting much smarter than the turtle who had been hacking wildly at her – the only thing protecting his sloppy performance was his sheer speed.

Not that he was at all sloppy now, she noted quietly as the creature fought her father.

In the split second she had spent glancing at her father's battle, the young woman called Angela whipped her saber past her own tantō and cut open her hand.

Cursing in a most unladylike fashion, Karai dropped her blade and retreated, pressing her injured hand to her stomach while inching up her other hand around her shoulder to grasp the wakizashi strapped to her back for emergencies.

Surely, that Angela girl wouldn't notice –

Yes she would – her sword was zeroing right in on her grasping fingers.

Karai quickly revised her plan.

*****************************

Angela pressed her lips together in displeasure as her rival clamped down on her sword hand with her injured hand and grabbed the sword that was peeking over her shoulder.

That would be a problem.

She imitated her foe and grabbed the woman's wrist.

For a long moment, the two women struggled against each others' grip, Karai fighting to keep Angela's saber from running her through, and Angela battling to keep Karai from drawing her spare sword.

"Why?" Karai grunted out.

"Why what?" She fiercely tried to twist her blade out of the other woman's grip.

"Are you possessed? Have you – _uh!_ – made a deal with the demons? Why are you here?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, the noblewoman met the princess' gaze squarely. "Haven't you ever heard of friendship? Loyalty? Honor?"

Judging by the look on the other's face, she guessed she had hit a nerve. "Didn't your father teach you that? Or was he too busy training you to believe everything he said?"

A snarl worked itself across Karai's slender face. "Don't speak of my father that way!"

Angela had no pity. "Do not speak of Leonardo that way."

"That creature has a name?"

"That creature is my best friend. Do not speak of him that way."

"How can such a monster –"

"How can you call him a monster when you have not spoken to him?"

"My father –"

"Ah, yes. You father. Did it ever occur to you that he may lie? Or did he not tell you what he did to the family that once lived here?"

The woman looked poleaxed. "What did you say?"

*******************************

Gwen and Donny stumped forward as quickly as they were able, following Evelina who led them to a huge crowd of people.

"Donny!"

The three's attention was immediately seized by a skinny young girl in dark pigtails.

"Angel!" Donny gasped. "You're human! Does that mean…?"

The girl's smile was practically taking in her ears, it was so big. "Yup! Raph and Julietta are making out somewhere in there."

"What?" Evelina was saying, looking from face to face in confusion. "Isn't Raph the dying turtle?"

Angel giggled happily. "Kinda. But he's not dying. And he's not a turtle anymore."

She waved an arm at the crowd. "C'mon! I'll show you!"

Donny tugged a bewildered Gwen forward. It took another moment, but Evelina followed them.

******************************

They were deadlocked.

No matter how much Karai pulled, Angela pulled back just as hard. Angela's pushing was equally matched by Karai's.

Unless someone tried something new they were going to be there a while.

Someone like Karai.

The princess dropped to her knees, throwing Angela off balance. While Karai managed to keep her grip on Angela's saber, the noblewoman's hand had slipped away from her enemy's blade.

With lightening speed, Angela found herself being kicked hard in the chest and dumped on the ground. Reacting, she rolled to the side and whipped herself to her feet only to be confronted by the sight of Karai's wakizashi zooming towards her neck.

She pitched herself over backwards onto the ground and kicked at the other woman's legs. Karai stumbled and tried to pin her down.

"Give up and you can live! We can release you from the spell!"

The dark haired young woman winced slightly at the cool laughter that was now issuing from Angela.

" 'Live'? Do you honestly expect me to believe that? I believe that your father was shouting out that he was going to kill us all just a few minutes ago."

Angela looked up calmly into the suddenly confused and angry face of her enemy.

"You lie!"

She didn't bother raising her voice as she managed to land a solid kick on Karai's knee, causing her to falter and allowing she herself the time to clamber to her feet.

They continued their madcap dance of swordplay.

"My father would never –"

"Never what? Threaten five innocent men with death just because they're not entirely normal? Set out to kill four women he's never even seen before simply because they've befriended said men?"

Her brilliant silver eyes narrowed dangerously. "Curse the king and princes of a country for sport?"

Karai's black eyes grew so big you could see the whites all around her irises.

****************************

Evelina felt as though she was trapped in some surreal fantasy world. She had come here to find her granddaughter and save her from the demons that were supposed to inhabit the castle. She had expected to see her granddaughter wandering around in an enchanted trance. She certainly hadn't counted on running into finding the girl dressed in armor and fighting off her rescuers.

Then again, it had made a sort of perverted sense; her granddaughter was a skilled warrior and if the demons had been capable of bewitching her to want to stay with them, why shouldn't they make her fight for them?

She most definitely hadn't anticipated that Julietta would show such concern for the turtle-creature and the gruff voice that had issued from the… him… her granddaughter had introduced as Raphael.

Any thoughts of her granddaughter being possessed or enchanted had vanished as soon as Evelina she had heard the panicky tone of her voice and seen the sheer desperation in those familiar dark brown eyes. That was Julietta. Complete, unenchanted, and very much afraid.

But the one thing she certainly had _never_ expected to see in this one insane night was her granddaughter kissing a young man so fiercely you'd think one of them was on their way to the gallows.

"_Raph?! Julietta?!"_ screeched the girl called Gwen in disbelief.

****************************

"What?" Karai whispered, stumbling away from her opponent.

Angela did not back away, keeping her eyes firmly on those of the fierce young princess. "Your father is an evil, spiteful man. I have nothing more to say about him."

Karai was still trying to wrap her mind around what she was hearing. She had always known that her father was a sorcerer; when she had been a small child, he had amused her with little tricks – catching starlight in his hand like silver rain, enchanting the statues in the gardens to dance and play with her, and often would cast a spell on the flower trees to make them bloom in the dead of winter.

Was he capable of doing the things this girl claimed?

His power was certainly great enough, but doing it just to hurt another? Her father would never do such a thing! He was here simply to free the girls being held captive and eliminate the demons that had bewitched them.

But… this girl, Angela, was not displaying any signs of having been enchanted or brainwashed. It obvious in the way she moved and spoke. She was herself.

That didn't make any sense! Perhaps the demons had tricked her? Her father had said that they were very cunning, but this girl seemed far too clever to fall for anything they might try to pull on her.

Could it be that she was telling the truth?

Karai lowered her sword a bit. "Tell me more. Why should I believe you?"

Before either of the young women could do or say anything else, two large somethings came barreling in to strike them in the chest and throw them both off their feet. With lightening speed, the strangers gripped the girls in iron hard fists and held them captive.

The ambushers turned out to be huge men cloaked and masked, wearing large straw hats. Her father's personal guard, she realized.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "This is a one on one match!"

"My apologies, Princess Karai," said one of them, releasing her instantly and bowing deeply. "But your father has ordered that the Blue Turtle's slut be brought forward and killed."

It took a moment for her to understand what she had just heard, but Angela had not such troubles. The blonde immediately began to kick brutally hard.

"Why?" she managed to sputter.

The guard looked surprised. "They have defied him, my Lady. He has given orders for the others to be found and killed as well."

With another low bow, the guards dragged the struggling blonde away, leaving Karai to stand stock still alone in the darkness.

*************************

Leo fought as calmly as he could facing a mad man jabbing and slashing at him with a skill that belied the crazed light in his black eyes.

Never in all his eighteen years had he ever faced anyone as good this. This man was just as good as Master Splinter – and he had the advantage of fewer years weighing down his limbs – and far better than the Princess Karai.

They locked blades for a moment, and then quickly leapt away before anything else could happen.

As they switched sides, Leo saw something that made his heart stop.

It was Angela.

Angela being held in such a way that if she tried to struggle, the man holding her would be in a perfect position to break her neck.

"Argh!"

The Shredder had used his moment of hesitation to stab him clear through his right shoulder. Both of his katanas fell from his hands and clattered to the ground, only to be kicked away out of his reach.

"Leo!" Angela threw herself against the grip of her captor.

"Don't move, Angie!"

"Angie?" the Shredder jeered. "Isn't that sweet! Say good-bye to your little whore, Prince Leonardo!"

The man waved an arm at his guard. "Release her. Let her say good-bye to this abomination!"

Leo watched as the burly thug released his dangerous grip on Angela and willed her to run away. To escape.

But no. She was running straight towards him, her pale hair gleaming as silver as her eyes.

"Leo!" she gasped, reaching him and immediately bending over his shoulder. "Are you alright? Did it hit an artery?"

"No," he panted. "It's alright. Listen Angie –"

"No, you listen," she cut him off, whispering softly. "I figured it out. You're one of the princes, aren't you? From the story."

Leonardo Hamato couldn't even find the breath to say yes. He nodded instead.

"What can I do?"

He looked at her desperately. "You have to figure it out for yourself, Angela. I can't tell you."

"What can you tell me?" her voice was rising.

He looked at her. Her normally smooth hair was falling out of its braid in a tangle to rival any of Julietta's. Her normally calm face was wild and angry.

Beautiful.

His eyes and tone softened. "I never got around to telling you this, Angela. I probably should have told you when I asked you to the ball.

"I was going to tell you tonight… I guess now's as good a time as any."

Angela was staring at him in blatant confusion.

"I love you, Angela. From the –"

And just like that, they were being dragged apart.

**OOOOOOO! **

**Review!!**


	41. Watery Grave

**Well... I would have gotten this chapter out sooner but I was very disappointed in your reviews for my last chapter. :( Oh well, I'm probably just spoiled.**

**But here ye, my readers, reviews make me strong! Make me happy! Make me write much!**

**Well... here it is!**

Chapter 40

Watery Grave

"_OOOOOOO!"_

"_What happened next?"_

"_Did they defeat the Shredder?"_

"_Did they kiss?"_

"_Did they live happily ever after?"_

"_You'll know if you stay quiet and let her finish."_

Angela knew it. Had realized it when she was fighting Karai.

Leo's story was true – he had just left out a rather major detail: He and his family happened to be the king and princes in the story.

But she hadn't known that he… loved her.

She couldn't help but wonder _why_. Yes, she was rather beautiful, but Leo was not the type of person who would fall for anyone based on appearance. He – of all people – would never be that shallow. She could be overly formal and very cold when she wanted to be, something that often led to arguments and even fights with Julietta and Raph.

What did he see in her?

And, even more importantly… did she love him back?

Well, whatever her answer was, she definitely didn't appreciate being dragged away from him like this.

"Let me go now!" she commanded in her most regal tone.

Her captor did not release her, but he did loosen his grip. "My apologies, Milady."

"Now," the Shredder was saying. "Who shall I kill first? This pretty little girl, or her hideous little pet?"

No one answered.

"Exactly what I was thinking!" he ranted, howling with deranged laughter. "The pretty little girl! Let the monster see his love die!"

"_Coward."_

Ice seemed to grow along Angela's spine at Leo's tone.

"_You goddamned coward. How dare you threaten Angela, you bastard? Release me and we'll see dies."_

The Shredder's face contorted with fury and he struck Leo across the face. "Abomination! Fine, then! If you want to die, so be it!"

He turned on his minions and barked out his orders. "This turtle was wearing water when I first saw him! Let's see how he likes the water when he's drowning in it! Bind him and throw him in the lake!"

Angela gasped as her heart seemed to seize up abruptly. It took her a moment to find her voice, but when she found it – _she found it_.

"NO! Please! Don't do it! Leo, do something goddamnit!"

Now she could understand why Raph and Julietta cursed so much – it released tension. And it expressed her anger and desperation very well.

Even as she fought against the men holding her, she knew that she didn't want Leo to die. She'd rather it be herself drowning at the bottom of the lake. She wanted him to live. She wanted him to be happy.

She…she…

To hell with it.

Utilizing something she had been shown as a young girl but had never had the occasion to use, the prim and proper Angela of Verity kicked the men restraining her hard in the testicles. Instantly she was free.

And then she was running towards Leo, who was struggling against the chains they were tying brutally across his broad shoulders. Shouldering aside the guards who tried to get in her way. Then she was throwing away the men trying to secure the chains around Leo.

"Angela!" he hissed, his dark eyes frantic. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You should be run-"

But even the skilled Leo Hamato didn't know how to talk – or even think coherently – when he was being kissed.

Then there were those damn hands grabbing her arms again, but she managed to shake them off long to break the kiss and whisper, "I love you, too."

As soon as those words left her mouth, she knew it was true.

She was suddenly reminded of the first time she had seen Leo. That first night in the castle when she had traded her freedom for her father's.

The way he had looked at her…

Of course, she had been close to panicking that night and had no idea of what the expressions on the turtle's face meant, but now she had spent almost two years with him and knew him as well as she knew herself.

She knew what that look meant –

Shivers ran up and down her spine.

"Angela?" he said, very quietly, very seriously. "Will you ma-"

And was interrupted by the Shredder's fist itself.

"_Are all of you incompetent fools?!"_ he screeched. _"Ah! Karai! Come here, daughter, and show these idiots how demons are disposed of."_

Karai herself stepped from the shadows looking stony-faced. "No."

The Shredder looked utterly flabbergasted; for a moment, it seemed as though he was going to keel over right there from cardiac failure. Finally, his face twisted into the most horrible snarl.

"I'll deal with you later, disobedient wench," he hissed, kicking Angela in the chest so hard she was thrown through the air to land several feet away.

The noblewoman was left gasping in the dirt, mind whirring. _Will you mar-_ What did that mean? It must have been important or Leo wouldn't have wasted those precious seconds whispering them to her.

_Will you mar-_

Oh no. Oh no!

She sat up as quickly as her throbbing chest would allow – just in time to see the Shredder kick her love into the water.

"LEO!" she scrambled to her feet, grace long forgotten, and tried to run to the lake.

But immediately the damn arms were holding her back and the Shredder was laughing.

Laughing.

Laughing.

And now talking.

"What do you have to say to the beast now, girl?"

Angela felt pain unlike anything she could ever have dreamed of bloom in her breast. Gone. Leo was gone.

Dying under the water. And this… this… _thing _was still taunting her?!

"_I will! I will marry you! Leonardo Hamato, I accept your proposal!"_ she screamed as loudly as she was able.

**************************

Leo's mouth fell open under the water.

Had he just heard what he thought he'd heard?

Had Angela just agreed to marry him?

How was that possible?

And why was the water around swirling around him? Why were the chains loosening up around his arms?

Wait a second… Holy crap!

**************************

Angela took a moment to school her features into an impassive mask as she was dragged to face the Shredder.

"You have been a thorn in my side for too long."

"It must have been a bad day for me. I've known you less than a day."

"You little –"

Sploosh

An explosion of water diverted their attention and then, quite suddenly, for the second time that night the whole world went to hell.

**See what happens when you don't review? I just give you a mind numbing cliff hanger!**


	42. Open Rebellion

**Aren't you guys lucky? Two updates in less than a week! But then, I had my muse sitting on my shoulder AKA I watched TMNT today.**

**So... I'm not sure how well the fight scene came out, but tell me what you think anyways!**

Chapter 41

Open Rebellion

"_Was he human?"_

"_She did everything she was s'posed to do to break the spell, didn't she?"_

"_Well, you see:"_

Spitting out a mouth of water, Angela suddenly found herself being dragged to her feet by the Shredder. The arrogant king looked suddenly very tense and even a bit nervous.

And as she blinked away the pond water stinging her eyes and obscuring her eyes, the reason became very clear.

The forces of the Shredder were suddenly surrounded by an army of people Angela had never seen before. With a jolt, she recognized Zoey, Gwen, and Julietta; Gwen was supporting a slender young man who seemed to be trying to balance his weight on her, his good leg, and a very familiar staff, and Zoey and Julietta were leaning against two other young men. They, along with their male companions, and the entire mass of people at their backs looked furious and ready to fight.

"Karai?!" the Shredder shouted, snapping his eyes from side to side.

"I'm here."

The proud woman was standing in the shallows of the lake, allowing an elderly man with grey hair and a walking stick to lean on her. Beside her was a very tall, handsome young man.

He was soaking wet, and wearing what had once been very nice trousers, boots, and a navy blue tunic. Even in the sparse light from the moon and the stars, his bronze hair was bright, as were his great, dark eyes.

There was an audible clanging as the stranger shook off the chains and manacles that had were hanging on his shoulders and arms. The bindings looked as though they had been meant for someone much larger. Like maybe a giant turtle.

"What are you doing?" the man demanded. "Who're they?"

"That's very disappointing, King Saki."

Angela couldn't stop staring and gasping at the sight and sound of Leo's voice coming out of the young man's mouth.

"Don't you recognize the heir of this country? The one you cursed?" His voice was perfectly controlled – just like Leo's when he was so angry he could barely speak.

"Are you alright, Angela?"

"I've been better," she managed to gasp out.

"Prince Leo!" A rather short young man with pale hair hurled two unmistakable blades into the air.

"_Doumo_, Usagi!" the prince called out even as he snatched the katanas out of the air.

"Now, Shredder," he said coldly. "I think it's time to release Angela and face me like a man."

The Shredder laughed mockingly. "What makes you think you are even worthy to cross blades with me?"

The young man didn't so much as bat an eyelash. "I was more than worthy when I had green skin and a shell."

"Foolish child! I am King! I have others to do the fighting for me!"

Without letting go of Angela, he waved a hand imperiously through the air. "Karai! Attack!"

His daughter didn't move. "No."

For a moment it looked as though the Shredder's eyes were going to pop out of his head. "How dare you disobey me! These demons are abominations that must be wiped from the face of the earth."

There was a barely restrained snarl from the man Julietta was leaning against and a tightening of grips on weapons among the warriors surrounding them.

"You were the one to make them demons, weren't you, Father?" the woman's voice shook the tiniest bit. "You cursed them, didn't you? And now you want to kill them just as they're getting close to breaking the spell."

"I do this for you, stupid girl! If I had done nothing, you would have been married to one of these mongrels!"

"What mongrels?" asked his daughter, not taking her eyes away from him. "They're human. They fight like true warriors. They have honor." Her green eyes went desperately sad. "Where is yours, Father?"

The Shredder called her something that made much of the army backing Gwen and the others hiss and gasp.

"Stockman!"

"He's dead," Donny's voice informed the mad man from the mouth of the young man leaning on Gwen's shoulder.

A strange look flashed across the Shredder's face. "HUN!"

"Dead," growled Raph's voice from the gypsy with his arm around Julietta.

Was she imagining it or was there a hint of panic in the man's voice?

Well… now was a good a time as any –

Angela smashed her elbows back into the Shredder's stomach. If he hadn't been wearing armor she would've treated him to several bruised internal organs. As it was, he released her in a fit of cursing and immediately tried to catch her again but she was too fast.

For some reason, her feet were carrying her directly toward the young man who had emerged from the water.

His dark brown eyes glowed brightly down at her. "Are you alright, Angie?"

"So far," she gasped out.

He gave her a grim smile. "And I plan to keep it that way."

Then, with incredible speed, he pushed past her, giving her a firm shove in the back. She landed hard just in time to hear the clang of metal.

Flipping over, she saw the Shredder's sword neatly intercepted by the twin katanas the young man now held.

"Usagi!" the prince shouted.

Immediately the small young man who had thrown the prince his swords broke from the group gathered around and snatched her up with surprising strength for one so small. She found herself being dragged towards the other girls and tried to wrench away.

But it was too late; she had already been delivered into her friends' hands. And she wasn't entirely happy with it.

"What in hell is going on here?" she demanded.

"Well, holy crap, Goldilocks can curse afterall," Julietta said, leaning heavily on one of the strangers.

"Not now, Julietta. Who is that? Where are Raph and the others?"

"We're right here!" snapped the young man holding Julietta up.

"And here!" sing-songed Zoey's companion.

"It's us, Angela," said the young man with Gwen.

She looked from them to the girls. They all nodded solemnly at her.

"It's true."

"But if they're… then that means…" she wheeled around to watch as the Shredder attempted to decapitate the handsome prince.

"It means that that's Leo."

Angela clutched at her skirt and began wringing it desperately with her hands. "How did you change back into humans?"

The one who was Donny began to explain. "The Shredder said the spell could only be broken if we…" he flushed brightly and looked Gwen. "If we fell in love with a young woman and she loved us back. She had to say she loved one of us, agree to marry us and seal it all with a kiss."

This brought the noblewoman up short and she found herself staring in outright disbelief at Julietta and Raph. Julietta had…?

"Ah," she managed to say faintly.

******************************

Master Splinter hobbled unsteadily on his human legs and leaned a little more on Lady Karai's arm. No one had been more surprised than he when the princess had suddenly appeared at his side to help him fend off the remaining guards. There was a handful that had immediately joined the young woman, but the majority had chosen to try and fight. They hadn't stood a chance.

He could see his boys – though he couldn't call them boys anymore – standing with the servants, the girls with them. Angela stood a little ways away from them, her bright eyes focused on Leonardo.

Who happened to be fighting that creature who called himself the Shredder.

Their blows were so fast the blades were like strokes of lightening. The Shredder made a brutal strike, slashing at Leonardo's throat, but missed at the younger warrior fell into a graceful crouch. Like a spring, he leapt into the air and dove downward, swords crossed in front of him defensively. The Shredder tried to throw him off balance by hurling a bladed chain but the katanas swept through the air and sliced through the lesser metal like a knife through soft butter.

With a snarl, the sorcerer threw down the chain weapon and began desperately parrying Leonardo's expert blows. It did not look easy; Leonardo was moving as gracefully across the ground as a dancer, his sword whipping around him in a deadly attack formation. The air was positively thrumming.

"No!" growled the Shredder as he was pushed back. "I will not be defeated!

"Leatherhead! By the blood that binds you to me, I command you to come and defend me!"

A huge reptilian creature came barreling through the crowd and stampeded its way to the Shredder's battle. However, it did not attempt to fight, merely stood quietly to the side, clawed hands around its belt.

"Defend me, slave!"

The strange animal looked straight at the Shredder and said in a perfectly understandable voice, "I am not your slave. Fight your own battle, Shredder."

Now there was definitely an air of panic around the once calm king. He was facing a younger, faster, and skilled warrior. One who had the advantage of being calm and totally focused on his defeat.

Spinning on his heel, Leonardo turned a quick circle, his katanas flashing like silver fireflies around his chest, arms and back.

The huge sword the Shredder had been swinging around all night went spinning out of his hand and landed with a dull thunk in the ground several yards away.

For a moment, even Master Splinter could not tell where his son had disappeared to until two swords crisscrossed in front of the Shredder's vulnerable neck. The once undefeated king was beaten.

"Yield!" Leonardo commanded, sounding more like a king than the serious boy he had been before the curse. "You have been beaten."

"Never!" spat the Shredder. "Come my Foot, attack!"

No one came.

Those still in the Foot regalia had stationed themselves around the Princess Karai.

"Karai?!"

"It is time for you to face justice for your crimes, Father," said the kunoichi in a tight voice.

"You cursed us for an imaginary slight," Leonardo said, though his voice was quiet the words carried. "When it became clear that the spell was being broken, you returned here with an army fed with your lies to kill not only my brothers and father, but our innocent guests as well!

"What have you to say for yourself?"

The Shredder cried something that made many in the army snarl and try to start towards the arrogant man, Julietta and Raph among them.

"Then you will face the king's justice. Get up."

"Never! Death first!"

And with an almighty lunge, the Shredder threw himself into the path of Leonardo's crossed swords. There was a terrible slicing noise, a spurt of blood and then a still body crumpled to the ground as a severed head fell to the ground like a stone.

There was a sound of something rushing through the air and suddenly the creature called Leatherhead was no longer a monster, he was a very tall and solemn man with dark skin and the proud features of the wild men from across the Western Seas.

For a moment, complete silence reigned.

Then:

"LEO!"

**Oh, yeah, for all who don't know : duomo is Japanese for a casual thanks.**

**Well what do you think?**

**REVIEW!**


	43. Aftermath

**Well, tell me what you think! This is the last chapter...**

Chapter 42

Aftermath

"_What happened to him?" gasped one of the older girls._

"_Well… you see… after she shouted –"_

Angela had forgotten all about dignity and poise and everything else she had ever been taught. All she remembered was Leo.

Because that young man was Leo. She had seen it in the way he had moved and the spoken. Just the way he… _was_.

She didn't remember running towards him but suddenly he had taken her in arms, swung her around several times, laughing. Just as she was starting to get dizzy, he froze where he was and kissed her. At the first touch of his lips on hers, she found her arms twining around his neck and kissing him so fervently she was surprised she wasn't knocking him off his feet.

It was only when they parted for oxygen, did she get a real look at him. He was one of the young men in the portrait, though he was far more handsome now. His features were well-shaped and his dark eyes made her stomach go deliciously weak. The thick wavy bronze hair that hung a tad too long down his back was wonderfully soft beneath her fingers.

"Angela, do you love me?"

"Oh yes."

"Will you marry me?"

"I already gave you my answer," she teased gently, still beaming down at him.

"Forgive me, but I was being drowned and missed the finer points of your response."

She laughed. "Yes, I will marry you."

They leaned in for another kiss, but the moment was ruined when a short, dumpy sort of man came waddling up. "Angela!"

The two broke apart as Angela gasped out, "Father? What in heaven's name are you doing here?"

The man began mopping up his forehead with a handkerchief. "I came – _pant_ – here – _pant_ – to rescue you!"

A delicate eyebrow arched. "Really."

"Yes! That Shredder fellow was supposed to help me save you from the demons that took you from me! But it seems that this young man managed to free you himself. Splendid, splendid. Now hurry up and come with me – you may be almost fourteen but I still know several very wealthy men who would be happy to –"

"Father," Angela cut him off smoothly. "I think there are several things I should clarify. Number one, I am not going back with you. I am not going to sell myself to a decrepit and lecherous man, no matter how rich he is or how beneficial to you this marriage might be."

"Now see here –"

"Number two, those demons? They are not demons, they happened to be this man here –" she gestured to Leo – "and his brothers and father."

"What? But –"

"Number three. I am going to marry this man and if you don't like it you are under no obligation to attend the wedding.

"And number four. I am seventeen years old."

For the longest time her father, Andrew of Verity, could only open and close his mouth like a fish out of water, his too-small eyes darting from his daughter to her alleged fiancé. At last he managed to squeeze out, "Who are you, boy?"

Leo bowed slightly and answered with cold politeness. "I am Leonardo Hamato, Prince of Rosacaea."

A greedy smile spread across Andrew's fat face. "A prince?"

A quick and meaningful look shot between the prince and his beloved.

"Yes," Leo said with an impressive nod. "And I am very much in love with your daughter, good sir. So much so that I cannot accept a dowry of any kind."

Angela smiled sweetly at him. "Then we cannot ask for a bride price, can we Father?"

Andrew opened his mouth to object, but closed his mouth at the sight of his daughter's dangerous icy glare. "O-of course not, dewdrop.

"Now… now… I must be off. Got to go and… spread the good news!"

As the fat little figure waddled off, Angela leaned over and whispered into Leo's ear. "He means he's got to leave the country before the authorities catch him and throw him into debtor's prison. Now. Where were we?"

**************************

It wasn't until someone noticed the coming light of dawn that everyone realized how late – or early, depending on the way you looked at it – it was. At that point, the remaining enemy fighters were marched down into the dungeons to await the King's justice, Karai's forces and the other converted invaders were shown to rooms, the servants hustled off to perform their duties, and Master/King Splinter bade them all good night and left to go to bed. This left the four princes alone with the girls.

"Well," Leo said, his arm around Angela. "I think it's time we all went to bed. We're going to have our hands full tomorrow sorting everything out."

There was a general consensus and they all hurried away to bed.

Mikey supported Zoey all the way to her bedroom – despite the new bandage that now secured her foot she wasn't up for much walking – and they stood for a long time outside of the room. Neither said anything for a long time.

"Is this for real?" Zoey said at last, leaning up against her door and looking up at him in fresh wonder. "Is that really you?"

He grinned brightly at her. "Yup. It's me, Z."

She giggled. "You rhymed."

He tugged at her untidy braid gently. "Yup."

"W-would you like to come inside?" Zoey wasn't quite sure where _that_ had come from, but now that it was out, she had no wish to take it back.

"What?"

"Just to sleep. Your room is a long ways away, isn't it?"

Mikey looked around, "Yeah, kinda. It's on the second floor."

"You don't have to come in if you don't want to. I just thought I'd offer –"

"No," he paused and hiked up his shoulders, smiling shyly. "That's okay… are you sure you don't mind?"

"Yeah. I mean, no." She opened the door and waved him inside.

He took several minutes staring around at the cheerful room, from the bright curtains and bedspread and the many works of art displayed on the walls and the shelves. He noted that he was in most of the drawings as a turtle.

"Don't worry!" Zoey said, seeing where he was looking. "Soon I'll have lots of pictures of the two of us together."

She leaned on his shoulder, "But I'll always keep those turtle drawings."

"How come?"

"Because… you were cute. Green was totally your color." She smiled up at him brightly.

He feigned hurt. "You mean you don't like me this way?"

"I like – love – Mikey Hamato. Whether or not he's a turtle or a really cute guy."

Mikey laughed out loud and swept her up. He carried her to her bed and lay her down gently. "I love you, Z."

She giggled as well and scooted over to make room for him. "I love you too."

"So… are we still on for getting married?"

"Yup."

It wasn't ten minutes later that the two were fast asleep on Zoey's huge canopied yellow and orange bed, her head on his chest.

*******************************

Julietta rubbed her sore eyes and then her aching leg. "Damn leg."

She had been chasing the horses since the crack of dawn, and the full three hours of sleep she had gotten hadn't been near enough to properly sustain her through her day. Especially since her grandmother had shown up not thirty minutes ago and begun scolding.

Why hadn't she explained what was going on sooner? Why hadn't she told her that she was getting married? Why hadn't she told her that she was getting married to such a 'delicious piece of Gypsy flesh'? Why hadn't she introduced her to her fiancé?

It had all been enough to put her in a very bad mood.

A very bad mood that wasn't helped when said piece of Gypsy flesh came cantering towards her, dressed in a red tunic that showed a nice bit of tanned abs and black pants and boots.

"What do you want?" she demanded of him, ignoring her sudden urge to jump him.

Raph shrugged. "Jus' came to see if you needed help with the horses."

"Does it look like I need help?" Julietta growled, waving her arm at the line of caught horses tied to the fence.

A wicked smirk that made her blood go all hot and sizzly spread across his face. "You haven't caught Demonio yet." His gold eyes flickered downwards. "And you're not gonna with that leg."

She snarled at him, whipping her skirt to cover the bandages on her injured limb. "Screw off!

"Come here, you bastard!" she howled, hobbling after the black colt, who had just galloped to the edge of the gardens.

_Phriiiiiiiiiiii_

Julietta nearly leapt out of her skin at the shrill whistle that rent the air just behind her. She spun around. "Holy shit!"

Raph was standing behind her, whistling.

Immediately the fierce young horse lifted his head and came towards them, tail and head high. He stopped several feet from them, tilted his ears forwards and pawed the ground.

Raph stepped closer and extended his hand. "C'mere, boy. C'mere, y'bastard."

For a moment, Demonio didn't move. Then, all at once, he bounded forwards and shoved his head into Raph's chest.

The man rocked back slightly onto his heels but didn't fall. On the contrary, he shot her another of those sexy smirks. "Guess he likes me."

Julietta smirked back. "No accountin' for taste."

"Hold on there, Jules," he said, grabbing Demonio's halter as the colt energetically sniffed at his shirt. "You sayin' you don't have the same taste?"

She grinned at him and lightly punched his arm. "Damn you."

Raph arched an eyebrow at her and his glaze shifted down to her leg and then her hands. "Y' feelin' alright?"

"Shut up."

The Gypsy girl turned and began limping her way back to the other horses. Her leg throbbed steadily but she gamely ignored it.

Then all at once her feet weren't on the ground. Defensive instincts kicked in and she started to thrash. Ignoring her struggle, Raph easily threw her over her shoulder and carried her like a sack of potatoes even as he led Demonio to the other horses.

"Liar."

"Jackass," she spat, propping herself on his back with her elbows.

"And you love me anyways."

"Only God knows why."

She grunted as her carrier suddenly came to a dead halt and deposited her on the fence. "What the hell, Raph?"

He stood before her and shoved his hands into his pockets and began fiddling with something. "This doesn't change anything does it?"

She rolled her eyes. "What the in the name of God are you talking about? The turtle thing? This just makes it easier to… perform. Anyways" – she looked up at him, meeting his eye –"you're still _you_ under all this, aren't you? The same stupid, smartass bastard who can't control his temper worth a shit?"

He laughed. "That's me."

"Then you've got nothing to worry about." She knew she was smiling goofily and found she didn't care.

"That's what I was hopin' for. I met your grandma comin' out here and she told me what Gypsies do when they propose."

"And what do they do?"

He took the object out of his pocket. It was a red rose, surprisingly crisp and fresh for being in his pocket. "They hold still so I can put this on 'em."

"Really?" she smirked even as she tilted her head to give him an easier time putting the flower in her hair. "And why should they?"

"'Cause this's supposed to be like an engagement ring until I give you the actual jewel." He withdrew his hands and looked at her, seeming to admire the picture of the red rose entwined in her hair just above her ear.

She brushed her fingers against the soft petals and then reached out and grabbed his hand. It took only the lightest tug to pull him down to her level.

It was time for some serious making-out.

"Why the hell do I love you?" Julietta moaned about five minutes into it.

"I was just askin' myself the same question."

Neither was able to express anything coherent for the next fifteen minutes.

**************************

Donny was busy prowling down the hallways. "Gwen? Gwen, where are you?"

He had been looking for her for almost a full hour. None of the servants had seen her; she wasn't in her bedroom, the library, her favorite music room, or any of the workshops.

"Where are you, Gwennie?" he muttered to himself, looking around.

Gwen hadn't been seen since early that morning when they had all staggered off to their beds. Donny had, of course, offered to escort her to her bedroom but she had politely declined, insisting that he get some sleep and not worry about her.

Well, it was too late for that – he was seriously getting worried. Where was Gwen?

"Lord Donny!" screeched a skinny little kid with a scruffy red cap.

"Tyler?" he said in confusion. "What's the matter?"

"Your girl… Miss Gwen," panted the boy. "She just walked out of the castle, I think she's leaving the grounds and going into the city!"

Despite a raging headache and the agonizing pain from his ribs, Donny managed to make the ten minute walk down to the gardens in less than four minutes. Through the crowd of servants rushing to repair all the damage that had been done to the grounds that night, he could make out a small slender figure in a simple green and violet cloak. She was making her way to the gates, where the forest was now replaced by the marble buildings of the city that surrounded the castle.

"Gwen!"

She stiffened and immediately began speeding up, clutching a satchel closer to her body.

"Gwen! Stop! Hold on!" He sprinted forward, dodging around people filling in holes and straightening the tottering trees.

Donny gasped – the migraine from his concussion was steadily worsening, though it was not as bad as it had been last night – Gwen was almost at the gates.

With another burst of speed, he managed to dive upon her and the two crashed to the ground.

"So," he panted, grabbing her wrist and lying flat on his back as he tried to catch his breath. "May I ask why you're leaving?"

Gwen hugged her bag to her chest. She didn't seem to want to meet his eyes. "I thought if I said goodbye you'd try to make me stay."

He nodded and sat up. "Sounds about right. But why are you leaving?"

She tugged her captive wrist hopefully, then gave up. "Well… there's no reason for me to stay is there? I broke the spell for you – what else did you need me to do?"

Reminding her of an experiment they had once tried with a metal rod and lightening, Donny's spine shot upright. "What? Who told you that?"

Taken aback by his angry tone, Gwen leaned back slightly. "No one. I just assumed… I mean – look at you, Donny! You're a prince! You're in line for a throne –"

"Third in line," he interrupted her. "And I told you last night that I didn't want you to leave. For God's sake Gwen, I lov-"

"Why?" she demanded desperately. "I'm a peasant!"

He blinked at her. "And I'm the son of two commoners. I was only adopted by Splinter when my parents died when I was a kid. What difference does it make if you're not of noble blood? You're still Gwen.

"Or is this to get out of marrying me?"

She looked shocked. "You still want to go through with marrying me?"

Donny just barely resisted the urges to shake her and tear his own hair out. "Yes! I wouldn't have asked you otherwise!"

"Why?" she asked again, looking completely mystified and rather hopeless.

He took her hands in both of his and looked her in the eye. "Because you're sweet" (he kissed one hand) "And smart" (he kissed the other hand) "and beautiful" (he drew forward until their noses were practically touching) and I'm in love with you."

And he kissed her.

After that, it was only five minutes before they came walking back to the front steps of the castle hand in hand.

***************************

That night was a hastily prepared banquet. Master Splinter sat at the head of the table with Leo, Angela, Donny and Gwen on his right and Raph, Julietta, Mikey, and Zoey on his left. Also seated at the table was Princess – actually now Queen – Karai, seated next to the diplomat Akito who had to be released from the grandfather clock in the throne room where he had been cursed to spend the rest of eternity – or until the Shredder's spell was broken, Casey Jones, the librarian Miss April O'Neal, Julietta's grandmother Evelina, and the tall dark skinned man called Leatherhead.

The guests at the table shifted uncomfortably at being seated among the people they had been trying to kill just last night, but their hosts seemed more or less unconcerned.

At last, King Splinter stood and silence fell.

"First," he said in his deep, kind voice. "I would like to extend my sincerest greetings to our guests. Though we did not start off on the best of beginnings, I hope that we will be able to put that behind us and continue on as friends."

There was a smattering of approval at this gracious statement and the nervous shifting abated.

"Second, I wish to thank Lady Angela, Donna Julietta, and Misses Zoey and Gwen for their courageous and successful attempt at breaking the curse that had been put on myself and my sons."

He beamed at them.

"Third, I have the most joyous news. As many of you have already guessed, there will soon be four weddings upon us. My sons have asked these lovely young women to be our princesses and they have said yes."

There was an immediate roar of approval up and down the table as guests and servants alike leapt to their feet and applauded and cheered.

When the hubbub died down, Splinter raised his goblet. "A toast to the newly betrotheds."

"To the newly betrotheds!" chorused the others enthusiastically.

"Now let's dig in!"

The rest of the night was devoted to eating, drinking, and congratulating the princes and their fiancées. It wasn't until almost midnight when the eight of them were able to get time for themselves.

They snuck out to the ballroom and relaxed on the balcony.

"Goodness," Angela was saying. "Are your friends usually so rambunctious?"

"Usually only Raph's and Mikey's," Donny answered, one arm around Gwen's shoulders.

"Some party," Julietta commented from where she was sitting on the balcony railing. "You'd think we'd just saved the world."

"Y'saved us and the kingdom," Raph said. "That's close enough."

"You have such a big head."

"You guys," said Zoey. "It's been almost two years since us girls came here. Remember? Julie came in June."

The Gypsy girl sighed and swung her legs. "Almost two years I've wasted in this place."

"Can _anything_ shut her up?" Mikey asked in an outright curious and somewhat awed tone.

"Yup," Raph nodded, getting up and rendering her completely silent through means that is really none of your business.

"Donny?"

"Yeah, Gwen?"

"Do you think this is going to be the last of the crazy stuff?"

The prince laughed outright and waved his free arm around at his brothers and the girls. Leo and Angela were reclined the same chair comparing their swords, Zoey and Mikey were having a thumb war, and Julietta and Raph were making out heatedly, both ignoring the fact that one of them was practically dangling from the balcony. "What do you think? Nobody here is exactly normal."

"Yeah, that was a pretty silly question."

"_The end. That's your story, honeybun."_

"_Nu-uh! You said there was gonna be a big wedding at the end, Mommy! You promised!"_

_The storyteller blinked several times. "I did, didn't I?"_

"_Yes, you did! Now what happened after that?"_

_"Isn't it you alls' bedtime?"_

_There was an instant uproar and it wasn't until the children were given permission to stay up until the story was over._

_Then the storyteller finally continued._

**NOT! We still have a little ways to go!**

**Anyways, please review!!**


	44. Something Blue

**Here I am! Back at college and rarin' to go!**

Chapter 44

Something Blue

_"What happened on after that?"_

Angela fought back a wince as the 'helpful' servants stuck her with yet another needle in an attempt to make her up and coming wedding dress a success. Privately she thought some of them had been better off as water.

It had been a month since the spell had been broken and most still weren't used to their human forms. The boys, however, had taken to their old human bodies immediately and wanted to waste no time in honoring their promises to marry their loves.

Leo, as the eldest and heir, had asked her to marry him in the month of July and of course she had accepted.

Though she was extremely excited and wanted nothing more than to marry him, this left a lot of work to be done in just a few weeks. There was the food, the flowers, the guests, the ceremony, the dresses…

Thankfully she didn't have to go too far in looking for bridesmaids. Julietta, Gwen, and Zoey had instantly volunteered and were helping her plan her wedding around their own. So now Gwen was down in the kitchen, taking care of the menu for all four of the weddings, making sure everything to be eaten would be cooked, grilled, sautéed, and baked to perfection. Julietta was down in the gardens muttering sourly over lilies, irises, orchids, daisies, roses, and all other flowers that women _have_ to have in their decorations and bouquets. And Zoey was bouncing around the newly appeared city of Rosacaea inviting guests and asking certain priests and witches and magicians to come and bless the unions.

Or so she thought.

***************************

Gwen sat in the kitchens, eating a carrot cake with Donny. They were trying to decide whether or not it would be good enough to serve at their wedding.

"I think it would be perfect," she said, licking a bit of white smooth frosting from her finger.

Poor Donny was trying to keep his eyes on hers instead of that damn pink tongue that was slowly lifting away the white sweetness on the slender fingers. "Ummmm… yeah… it's pretty good. But. Um. Aren't you supposed to be testing out food for Angie and Leo's wedding?"

"Oh please!" she laughed. "The food was easy. Both of them are so simple and upright that as long as the food is elegant and tasteful they won't care at all. So as an appetizer they get pheasant paté with herbs, the main dish'll be a choice between lamb tenderloin with a side of steamed asparagus and white sautéed mushrooms or this strange Eastern meal Lady Karai suggested to me. She called it sushi. It sounds really weird but it's definitely up Leo and Angela's alley. And then for desert I've asked for a four tiered white chocolate wedding cake. It's going to be perfect.

"Now, taste this." She offered a spoon laden with fluffy white frosting. "Do you think this is better or worse than the last bit of frosting?"

Okay. Now this wasn't fair.

He was a _scientist_. A scientist who happened to be a prince and engaged to a beautiful girl. How in the name of all this good, safe, and rational was he supposed to deal with said beautiful girl when she had a dab of flour on one cheek, the front of her dress gaping enticingly to offer him a good view of her breasts, and was offering him a spoon of frosting. For God's sake, he was supposed to be the calm one and he was fighting images of where he'd like to put that goddamn frosting.

And the worst thing?

She had no idea what she was doing to him.

"Donny? Why're you –"

Because the level-headed son of King Splinter had just closed the distance between himself and Gwen to kiss his fiancée fiercely.

Mmmm… he liked this newer frosting better.

My new favorite was his last discernible thought.

*************************

But Gwen had at least gotten the food part squared away. It had taken Julietta two and a half hours to figure out what to put with blue irises so as not to clash with Angela's pattern, hair, prototype dress, skin texture and complexion. Leo would just have to adjust; the wedding day belonged to the bride.

Julietta had had to consult with gardeners, random passersby, her grandmother, and Raph.

In hindsight, she would admit that going to her fiancé hadn't been the smartest thing to do. For the last several weeks, going to him meant arguing, making up sulkily, staring at each other for about ninety seconds and then retreating to a private location to have wild passionate sex.

Which was exactly what she doing.

Thankfully the stableboys had taken Demonio out and cleaned his stall so as she writhed, moaned, arched… and did other… private things with her soon-to-be husband, the environment was as clean as a stable was ever going to get.

What the hell, she had already chosen white roses and white calla lilies to go with the bride's favorite flower. She deserved a… _oh God._

Neither of the two completely distracted individuals noticed the horrified stable girl Shadow peek in, choke, and go tearing out.

What the hell.

Another five...

Hours.

*****************************

Zoey was having a bit more luck. She was walking through the streets of the great marble city with Mikey, telling everyone she met about the wedding and inviting everyone. In one hand she held Mikey's hand and in the other was a list of all of the magicians and priests and such who had accepted the invitation to come and bless the four upcoming weddings.

She also had the responsibility of finding something new for Angela to wear next week.

"OOOO… decisions, decisions," she muttered, staring at all of the products displayed in the market place.

Angela may have been a noblewoman but Zoey wasn't so she was going to buy what she pleased!

"What about those?" Mikey suggested, pointing to a lovely display of simple jewelry.

Curiosity piqued, the former acrobat hurried over to examine the ornaments and burst out smiling. "You're a genius, Mikey!" she declared, kissing him on the cheek.

He flushed brightly. "Well… y'know what they say, millionth time's the charm."

*****************************

It was July seventh. Also known as Wedding Blue. Also known as the day to see if a wedding night can remove the sticks lodged up the asses of Prince Leonardo and his fiancée Lady Angela.

Also known as a day of chaos.

Dressmakers ran around after the bride and her bridesmaids, still trying to put last minute touches on their gowns. The decorators were putting the finishing touches on the garlands that wound around the pillars in the throne room, where the ceremony would be performed, and repositioning the graceful arrangements of roses and lilies sitting in huge Oriental vases specially given by Queen Karai. The bakers fluttered nervously around the dignified, but highly delicious, wedding cake, putting on the final touches of frosting.

Angela stood at a stool, swallowing over and over. It felt like she was trying to eat powdered glass. The preparations had been made.

She was now being zipped into her wedding dress. It was a long white number that scraped the floor even with her ivory colored high heels; the gown had a sweetheart neckline and strange addition that Julietta had suggested: There was a solid stretch of fabric that served for the main skirt and train while another part was wrapped loosely around the front and stitched to her side. It was a truly exquisite dress, but what Angela loved best about it were the details that had come from the wonderful necklace that Zoey had found in the marketplace. It was a silver choker in the shape of flowers and leaves; the delicate design of the jewelry had given rise to the embroidered patterns of silvery blue thread that now lined every hem of the dress and covered the bodice.

Her hair was swept up in an outwardly simple knot that allowed several silvery-blond strands to hang stylishly around her face. It was perfect and – despite the fact that about a dozen razor sharp hairpins were needed to hold the twist up – she loved it.

"Let's see…" Gwen said backing away and starting to wring her hands. "Something old…"

"My sapphire earrings," Angela cocked her head and smiled when she felt the jewels brush her neck.

"Something new…"

"The necklace," Evelina nodded.

"Something borrowed…"

"My hairpins!" Zoey sang, pointing at the pale gold hair instruments that blended in flawlessly with the bride's hair.

"And something blue!"

"The thread," Julietta said triumphantly, running a careful hand across the dainty stitching.

"Well," Evelina said, clapping her hands. "Let's get this show on the road! Don't want to keep the groom waiting!"

The bridesmaids were all dressed in soft gowns of pale creamy gold, red, and lavender with dark lacy sashes around their waists in their favorite colors, bright yellow for Zoey, violet for Gwen and red for Julietta.

"How're y'feelin?" Julietta asked, handing the lovely bride an elegant bouquet of blue irises, white calla lilies and white roses.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Angela admitted with a weak smile.

"Don't be silly," Gwen said firmly, pinning on her veil. "You love Leo, don't you?"

"Of course, more than anything!" Angela said, shocked. "How can you even ask that question?"

"Because it sounds like you're getting cold feet," Zoey chirped, gathering up her and the others' bouquets.

"She's right, Angel-girl," Evelina said. "You're changin' colors like those fireworks Donny and Gwen like to play with."

The elderly Gypsy's face softened at the nervous face of the young woman. "Don't worry, on my wedding day I couldn't stop throwing up. It's just stage fright."

"No it wasn't," Julietta scoffed. "It was morning sickness."

She scowled at her granddaughter. "It's tradition for a Gypsy bride to be expecting when she is married!"

Everyone paused and looked at Julietta who was tugging at her crimson sash. She blinked as she met all their stares. "What?"

***********************************

Leo stood in front of the mirror and kept unbuttoning and rebuttoning his newest and best tunic.

"Bro," Raph said, gripping his shoulder. "No matter how many times you do that, it's going to turn out the same every time."

"I know. I just… I can't stand this!"

Raph smirked at the sight of his brother bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I can see that. But seriously, imitating a rabbit isn't going to make the wedding come any earlier."

"There you are, Raph!" Donny gasped, hurrying into the room. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"I just got here," the older man said with a shrug of his red clad shoulders.

"Where were you?"

A slow smirk spread across his face. "Around."

"With Julie?" Mikey guessed, poking at his boutonniere.

The grin fell off Raph's face so fast you'd think someone had tied an anchor to it. "What're ya talkin' about?"

"I just saw you tying her sash and she pinned on your flower to your shirt."

"It's called a boutonniere, Mikey," Donny said. "And it's time to go. Are you ready, Leo?"

"Yes!" The dignified young prince leapt up as though a firecracker had gone off beneath his ass.

"Leonardo," Splinter said, entering the room in his best red and black tunic. "Angela is ready. It is time."

*********************************

Angela watched as the newly appointed steward, Casey Jones, took her Matron of Honor (Evelina)'s hand and led her to one of the chairs in the front. Then it was time for the groomsmen – Mikey and Donny – to escort her bridesmaids – Zoey and Gwen down the aisle. Raph set his powerful hand on her bare elbow.

"Don't forget to breathe. Both you and Fearless've been freakin' out all day."

"Relax, Goldilocks," Julietta ordered. "It's not like you're marrying one of those lechs your dad wanted you to marry. You're getting hitched to Leo, the guy you were making eyes at even before he was human."

She slipped her arm through Raph's and winked at the pale bride. "It'll all be over soon, Ang. Just hang on."

And with that, the Best Man and the Maid of Honor strode down the aisle, shooting each other quick, heated looks.

And then.

FINALLY.

It was her turn.

She took her place behind the curtains and waited until the delicate veils lifted slowly away, giving her her first look at her guests, the throne room –

And her…

Leo.

Everyone present saw the change in the young bride. Her head came up and a smile as beautiful as anyone of them had ever seen spread across her delicate face.

The groom beamed as his fiancée slowly made her way down the stage.

It was the strangest thing, Angela thought unfocusedly. She seemed to be seeing everything in a haze.

The only thing that was truly clear to her was Leo standing there on the dais, waiting for her. It was like looking in one of Donny and Gwen's lenses. The weight of her train and veil disappeared as she made her way down the aisle. It seemed to take forever to reach him and yet when their hands met as he helped her up the steps, it seemed like no time had passed at all. She knew there were other people around her, knew that Julietta had taken her bouquet and that the guys were giving her and Leo thumbs up, but all that seemed completely unimportant.

Leo took her hands, gave them a gentle squeeze, and turned them both to face the priests and magicians.

Like the walk down the aisle, the ceremony seemed to take forever, but when it came time to say her vows, it seemed like no time had passed at all.

"I do," Leo said, smiling at her.

"I do." She was shocked at the strength of her voice.

And then she was kissing him and the only thing she could think of with the weight of her wedding ring on her finger and the feeling of his lips on hers was – _this_ _is what I've been waiting for_.

******************************

The ceremony wasn't over yet – though for Angela it might as well have been. But the laws of Rosacaea stated quite clearly that as soon as the Prince had wedded his bride, and before they – in the case of the heir to the throne – consummated the marriage, the girl was to be crowned Princess.

And so, with Leo standing at her side, Lady Angela of Verity sank into her lowest curtsey and trembled as the heavy, but elegant crown of the Princess of Rosacaea was placed on her head by King Splinter, blending perfectly with her wedding veil.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the priest thundered. "I have pronounced this man and this woman husband and wife in the eyes of God!"

"And I have shown them to be bound for eternity," the magician cried. "Their spirits shall never be parted!"

"Now," Master Splinter said, raising her to her feet. "I present to you the Prince Leonardo and his wife, Princess Angela."

As the crowd, led by her new brothers and her soon to be sisters, proceeded to raise the roof with their cheers, Angela looked at her husband and laughed out loud.

**Here comes to bride! Three more to go!**


	45. Something New

**Here comes the briiiiiiiide!!!!**

Chapter 44

Something New

"_So she's a princess now?"_

"_Yes," said the storyteller solemnly._

"_But, what about the others?"_

Julietta was going to scream. Really.

Okay, not really, but she really was pissed off. _Really._

She had already chosen her dress. It was completely fine for a wedding, but would the other girls listen to her?

Would they accept that her dress was fine, plain as it was?

Three guesses.

GodDAMMIT! She didn't want this damn dress!

She wanted them to take one of her dresses and just bleach it from red to white.

She wanted to go to her wedding barefoot.

She wanted to find out why she was…

Well… that was something she could worry about later. After these handmaidens of Satan left her the hell _alone_.

"For God's sake!" the young woman complained as they pinned and repinned her dress. "You did all this crap yesterday and the damn dress was just fine!"

One of the younger seamstresses fidgeted unhappily. "Just want to make sure that it still fits before we put the final touches on it."

"And why wouldn't it?"

The oldest of the seamstresses, a formidable woman called Mrs. Manley, scowled at her as she began to remove the pins. "Because you and Prince Raph have been going at it like rabbits ever since the spell was broken. Got to be prepared for anything."

Furious, Julietta snapped her hair off her shoulders. "And how exactly is one night gonna change anything? Do ya really think I'm gonna inflate overnight?"

The sturdy woman merely shrugged as she finished gathering the pins. "Gotta be prepared, hun. Alright, you can take that off."

Julietta had never taken anything off so fast.

"Don't worry about the dress," Mrs. Manley called as she left the room in her simple red dress. "It'll be all ready for tomorrow!"

Maybe they'll burn it, the soon-to-bride thought darkly as she went down to the stables.

***************************

The dawn of the day of the Prince Raphael's wedding came less than twenty-four hours later. For once, Julietta was up to meet it. There was something she wanted to check and she hadn't had the chance yesterday what with all the last minute preparations for the wedding.

She laid a small bowl on her vanity and pricked her finger. Squeezing a drop of blood into the simple clay container, the Gypsy then turned to the small supply of herbs and wine she had collected the day before.

Several crushed leaves, bruised stems, and drops of white wine later, she stared at the old Gypsy potion. Her grandmother had taught her the recipe when she had first gotten her moon blood.

"Use this whenever your blood doesn't come," Evelina had said.

*************************

The dress fit. Choke her with surprise.

She turned to catch her reflection in the mirror but her bridesmaids, Maid of Honor, and Matron of Honor blocked her view.

"Excuse me," she said sourly. "If I'm going to be forced into this, I at least wanna see this before Raph does."

"In a minute!" Zoey squeaked, fluffing out the wedding dress' skirt. "Now. You're wearing that necklace, so that's something old."

"And the dress is new," Angela murmured, dreamily counting the bouquets.

"And it's been getting newer every day."

"That's nice," the Princess said, beginning to hand out the flowers.

"Are you going to be like this all day?" the bride snarled.

"Leave her alone, Bridezilla," Gwen scolded. "She's a newlywed – she's allowed to act goofy.

"Do you have that awesome hair piece that Karai send for you to borrow?"

"I've got it!" Evelina declared, stabbing at Julietta's head with hair pins sharp enough to cut steak.

"This is torture!" complained the bride.

"Marriage always is," sighed the older woman. She glanced sharply at Angela. "Once the sex wears off."

Angela turned bright red. "What?"

Julietta laughed. "That's right, Goldilocks, no more wine for you! It could hurt the baby!"

Now the other girl was sputtering in a manner quite unbecoming for a Princess. "There is no baby! And I could drink if I wanted –"

"Actually you couldn't," Gwen said, adjusting her bodice. "There's evidence me and Donny have found that suggests drinking alcoholic beverages can hurt the baby."

"So you'd have to stay away from all that crap the _whole_ time you were pregnant?" Julietta asked, wincing as her grandmother gave her hair another firm yank.

"That's what the evidence suggested. You have that… um… what did Casey call it, Zoey?"

"Garter."

"Yep," Julietta said, patting her leg.

"Then that's something blue."

"And with this hair piece in," Evelina said ("OW!") with a flourish. "That's something borrowed!"

"We're ready!" sang Zoey, starting to dance in her Gypsy style dress.

"Let's go."

"No." She stood stock still. "I want to see the damn dress. Open the door so I can see the damn mirror."

There was a gleeful exchange of glances and her friends and family drew back and opened the closet door.

"Holy. Shit."

*************************

He was going to be sick. Right here and now. All over the grass.

Why the hell didn't we just elope?

Oh yeah, Fearless, Splinter, and Evelina would have his head on a platter. And since it was one that no longer made people scream openly – he was rather fond of it.

"You're looking a little pale there, Raphie-boy!" Mikey said gleefully.

"Shut up, runt." His voice sounded as though he was being strangled.

"Feeling a little nervous, Raph?" Donny asked kindly.

"Shut up."

"The girls are ready," Leo said, appearing at his shoulder. "See you in a little bit, bro."

And they left him alone on at the makeshift altar set up in the rose garden feeling ready to throw up.

Bastards.

It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Julietta. He hadn't wanted anything so badly. He wanted to fight with her for the rest of his life and have the kind of make-up sex that made his left side go numb. He wanted to have kids with her and get old with her. The whole effin' nine yards.

But did they have to do it in front of all these idiots?

The music was starting and he watched as his brothers walked through the garden with the girls. It was kind of hilarious to see Fearless grinning at Angela. Even when they were kids, he had never imagined his older brother looking at anyone the way he looked at Angie.

And their marriage definitely had definitely mellowed them. They no longer walked like they had sticks up their asses. Julietta had been right; they _had_ needed a good lay. And it seemed they were getting what they needed.

The girls were all dressed in slick Gypsy dresses with wide, flaring skirts and walked lightly. Each had a rose tucked behind their ears, purple, yellow and white.

And then…

Was he ever going to get over seeing Julietta dressed up? Well, whenever that would be, it would be long before he got over seeing her undressed.

She was in a strapless white gown with red roses embroidered all over the bodice and hemmed in delicate red lace. Around her slender neck were strings strung with tiny rubies that made her skin seem all the more golden; but the thread on which they were strung was so thin that it appeared that the jewels seemed to be floating around her. Her long thick hair had been half gathered up, allowing generous heaps of curls to fall down her back and onto her shoulders. Red glints in her hair betrayed a jeweled hair net that didn't seem to be up to the task of holding all of his bride's hair back.

To cut a long story short, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

For God's sake, she was _glowing_.

And smiling right at him.

************************

Julietta couldn't remember the wedding at all. It was all just a blur.

The last thing she remembered was walking through the garden, holding her flowers and grinning at Raph like a total idiot.

Wouldn't you if you were about to get married to the most infuriating, idiotic, sexiest, and sweetest guy on the planet? Okay maybe he wasn't the sweetest, but she loved him just the same.

And the next thing she knew she was kissing him so hard she was trying to taste his tonsils and he was responding with equal fervor.

It was that kiss that snapped everything right side up again. They broke to wild cheering and Julietta quickly swung around and bent to allow Splinter place the simple golden tiara on her head.

As she curtseyed in her Gypsy style to the guests, her husband flicked secretly at her crown making it slip just a bit.

"Ya look weird like this."

"Shut up. And I have to tell you something."

*************************

"To the happy couple!" Leo proclaimed, raising his goblet.

"Cheers!" agreed Angela, beaming.

Everyone raised their glasses to the newlyweds and drank deeply. Raph grinned – actually he hadn't stopped smiling since the wedding, so he just smiled wider – and took an impressive swallow from his own cup. Julietta smirked and raised her wine glass to her lips and took a tiny sip.

One delicious course of pasta, one huge chocolate wedding cake, and a dozen dances later, Zoey brought up a strange occurrence she had noticed. "Hey, Julie? Why aren't you drinking? You're supposed to get smashed at your reception!"

The bride traded beams with her husband. "I found out this morning that drinking can hurt your baby."

"What?" Zoey said as everyone around her gasped.

Raph laughed and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "I'm gonna be a dad!"

Instantly the amount of celebrations doubled, wine and whiskey flew out of barrels and bottles. Delicacies and the delicious cake vanished like mist in the sun and before anyone knew what was happening, it was time to wave good-bye to the newlyweds as they left to enjoy their wedding night.

Before they left, Splinter approached them.

The two expectant parents were silent for a long moment, slightly worried about what the man would say to their admitting to premarital sex – a _lot_ of premarital sex. But the elderly king smiled at them both and drew them both into a firm hug. "You will make fine parents, my children. However, I am afraid that my grandchild may be a bit too much for the both of you."

Julietta giggled. "Well, we really didn't have a choice – it _is_ Gypsy tradition for the bride to be pregnant when she's married – and I couldn't disappoint my grandm-"

It was then that Evelina came stomping up to them, howling, "Why am I always the last to find out?!"

**And the second wedding is over!**

**A challenge for all of you! Which awesome, extremely disfuctional, comedian do I quote in the chapter?**

**Get it right and I'll give you the next chapter tonight.**

**Otherwise, see you next week! And as always REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!**


	46. Something Old

**TADAAAA! Here you go!**

**Now don't forget to review!!**

Chapter 45

Something Old

"_How did she and the prince have a baby when they weren't even married?" one of the more precocious children asked. "I thought only married men and ladies could have babies."_

_The storyteller was saved answering this by the intervention of one of the adult onlookers. "It's different for gypsies. It's tradition."_

"_So what happened to Princess Gwen?"_

"_Well… it just so happened that her wedding was almost a disaster…"_

Gwen woke to a cold wind brushing softly against her blankets and face. It was the twenty-fourth of September, the sky still dark.

It was her wedding day.

She leapt out from under her blankets and started wildly ticking out the many things she would need for today.

Flowers? Check.

Food? Check.

Husband? Check.

Bridesmaids? Check.

Dress?

She looked over to the dressmaker's dummy on which her dress was proudly displayed. The mannequin was naked.

Gwen Rendon gasped and bolted for her closet. There was the usual burst of dresses as she wrenched open the dresses and she pawed through the mess of satin, velvet and muslin, but there was no sign of her beautiful gown.

Backing away, she grabbed her head and tried to take deep breaths. Okay. So. Her dress – her frickin' _wedding dress_ – was missing. One of the seamstresses must have taken it out for some last minute work.

Rushing back to her wardrobes, the young woman dragged out a plain lavender smock, pulled it hastily over her head and ran a quick hand through her disaster hair. Now decent, she opened her door and peeked out to see a few sleepy servants wandering through the halls, carrying buckets of soapy water and armfuls of fresh flowers.

She spotted a familiar looking man, "Chris?"

The servant snapped to attention. "Good morning to you, Miss Gwen. What can I help you with?"

She smiled sheepishly. "I don't suppose you would know where my dress is?"

He looked alarmed. "Your wedding dress, Milady?"

"Uh-huh."

It was at this point Gwen was thinking maybe she should have flagged down a maid – this poor man looked completely baffled. Obviously he didn't have the slightest clue of what to do at the incident of a lost wedding gown.

"Um. Maybe you should ask Princess Angela or Princess Julietta?" he offered at last. "I suppose I should ask ummmmm…"

"Try Mrs. Manley," Gwen offered kindly. "Could you see that Mrs. Manley is informed of this as soon as possible?"

The man nodded vigorously; it was rather strange, being confronted with someone who knew less of what to do than she did forced her to calm down and take charge. "If you need me, I'll be with the Princesses and Zoey, okay?"

Chris bowed and ran off, his armfuls of graceful irises and orchids bouncing around crazily.

That done, Gwen turned on the spot, the carpet feeling pleasant springy beneath her bare feet. Whose room was closer?

Angela and Julietta's rooms would be empty and Zoey's bedroom was too far away.

But she knew where the newlyweds' bedrooms were, Donny had showed her them yesterday when he had showed her their future bedroom. For their wedding night.

Assuming of course that there would still be a wedding if she couldn't find that damn dress.

With that pleasant thought, she went charging up the hall, easily cutting through several sitting rooms to get to the spiral stair which took her to the second room. She paused for a split second, considering.

Julietta, she decided, turning right and taking a back corridor until she came to a great mahogany door.

She knocked on the door.

No answer.

She knocked harder.

Silence.

She pounded.

There was a rustling sound and a muttered curse.

It was now that Gwen remembered just how early it was. Wincing, she eased open the door and looked inside.

The chamber was huge and had the biggest window and fireplace she had ever seen. It also had the strangest bed she had ever seen. The bed – a masterpiece of carved wood – hung from the ceiling on iron chains thicker than her own fists.

"Gwen?"

It was Julietta, curls looking gorgeously tousled and eyes bright. It was also Julietta holding a blanket up to her bare chest as she kept a firm hand on her prone husband's bare back. "Don't take this the wrong way but what the effin' hell are you doing here?"

"My dress is gone," she muttered, looking anywhere but at the bed.

"Your wedding dress?" Raph demanded, twisting around to stare at her.

"No, sweetheart," Julietta said with sarcastic sweetness. "Her baby dress. Now can you give me my pajamas?"

"They're ripped," he said flatly. "Remember?"

"Then give me yours."

"Do you remember last night at all?"

"Oh, right." The Gypsy Princess shot a look at her friend. "Wait outside, I'll be there in a second."

Face burning, Gwen obeyed and stood uncomfortably at the door until Julietta came out, twisting her hair out of her face.

"So," said the other, as though she hadn't been barged in on. "What's this about your dress? Have you checked with Mrs. Manley?"

"I sent someone to go find her. Shouldn't we get Angela?"

"Good idea." They set off together down the hall.

"Why didn't you grab Zoey first?"

"You were closer."

"I feel loved."

They arrived at Leo and Angela's door. "Wait here, Gwen. I'll get Goldilocks."

"Why should you go?"

"'Cause I'm more diplomatic. Wait here."

Scoffing indignantly, the younger girl leaned against the wall as her friend entered the room.

A moment of silence, then…

"Get out of the tub, Goldilocks. You stay put, Fearless –"

"Will you stop calling me that?!" Leo's voice snapped. "And we were in the middle of something –"

"And now you aren't. C'mon, Angela. We've got wedding fiascos to deal with."

In another few minutes, Julietta came strolling out of the room followed by a very disgruntled, wet Angela.

"What was so important that you couldn't even knock?" demanded the future Queen.

"My dress's gone missing," Gwen explained.

Immediately the anger drained out of the woman's face. "Have you talked to Mrs. Ma-"

"I sent someone to find her. But I guess this means that you don't know where it is?"

"No, let's find Zoey so we can get to work looking for it."

*********************************

Zoey was not in her room. She wasn't in Mikey's either.

"You don't think she'd take it as a joke, do you?" Gwen moaned, twisting her hands.

"If she did, I'll kill her," Julietta growled.

"You'll have to wait in line," Gwen snarled.

"Hold on, you two," Angela scolded. "We should wait until we find her before we start making accusations."

*********************************

Gwen was ready to start climbing the walls. There was still no sign of her dress or Zoey.

Or Evelina or Mrs. Manley, for that matter.

She wondered if there was a dress packed away in the attic that could be cleaned up in time for her afternoon wedding in the garden. Which was now exactly three hours away.

Oh God.

"You're panicking again, Gwennie," Angela said gently.

"Can you blame me?"

"No."

"Hi, guys!" Zoey was skipping towards them, her long auburn hair bouncing on her back. "I've got great news!"

"And I've got bad news," Gwen snapped. "My dress is missing!"

"What are you talking about? Your dress isn't missing!"

"You have my dress?"

Zoey suddenly looked nervous. "Kinda."

"What do you mean kinda?"

"Evelina, Mrs. Manley, and I were going to do some touchups to do your dress as a surprise and well… It got scorched."

"Scorched?!" Gwen didn't recognize her own voice. "My dress is _scorched_?"

"Yeah… but don't worry! We've been fixing – ummm, replacing it! Come see!"

Feeling as though she was going to just go crazy and start screaming and beating the hell out of everything that came close to her, Gwen followed the younger girl. Her dress was gone… the castle seamstresses had worked diligently on it for weeks… and now it was gone.

"Come on, you have to see the dress Mrs. Manley found in the attic last night. It's so beautiful! And it's short in the front so you won't be tripping on it, Gwen!"

But she couldn't look at Zoey.

They got to Zoey's room and found Mrs. Manley and Evelina kneeling around the new wedding dress.

"Oh good, you've found her!" Mrs. Manley sighed. "Come here Gwen; let's get this on you to make sure this'll fit."

"There isn't time," the bride moaned, catching sight of the blackened mess that was thrown over the bed – what had once been her wedding dress.

"Then let's getcha cleaned up," Evelina said briskly, grabbing her arm. "C'mon pretty one, we don't have a lot of time!"

*******************************

An hour and a half later saw a freshly scrubbed Gwen being hustled into her new wedding gown. The old one had been very simple and modest with a simple embroidered bodice and plain skirt with long gauzy sleeves. This new piece had no sleeves or shoulders, the bodice just clung to her torso with intricate lavender embroidery. A smooth bit of matching lavender belt gave way to a beautiful full satin skirt that fell to the tops of her feet in the front and a long fishtail train at the back, and every inch of the hem of her skirt was covered in pale violet embroidered thread.

It fit perfectly.

"Well," Mrs. Manley said, scrubbing a hand across her forehead. "That was a close one. It fits you perfectly."

"Whose was it?" Gwen breathed, looking at herself in the mirror.

"It belonged to a late queen. Master Splinter's great-great grandmother, I believe, Her Majesty Queen Tegwen. Now she was a real beauty. There's a portrait of her on the second floor."

"Won't Master Splinter be upset that I'm wearing a queen's gown?"

"This was actually his idea," Evelina admitted as she tied her granddaughter's sash. "Stop moving, Julietta!"

"Granma, that hurts! Tie it higher! You might be hurting my baby!"

"Of course, I'm not!" But she tied it higher anyway and moved on to help Angela and Zoey with their sashes.

The bridesmaids' dresses were simpler copies of her own dress with only minor changes: each was a delicate shade of vanilla with their own signature colored sashes around their waists, there was no embroidery on them and none of them had a train.

But even as they were being helped into their dresses, Gwen had to suffer her hair to be curled, perfumed and brushed over and over until the waves fell just right around her face. Then there were the delicate little high heels that she had to force her feet into and the veil that had to be pinned onto her head.

There were only fifteen minutes before she would become another Princess of Rosacaea. But that mattered very little.

What _did_ matter was that in fifteen minutes she would be married.

To Donatello Hamato.

She would be Gwen Hamato – and even though she still didn't have the slightest idea of why he wanted _her_ of all people she was perfectly – completely and utterly – ecstatic to marry him.

"So… do I look like a bride?" she asked, spinning for her friends.

Angela smiled at her. "Let's find out, shall we?"

*********************************

"You look beautiful," Donny breathed into her ear for about the seventh time as together, they moved forward to take their first dance as man and wife.

And it wasn't getting old.

Laying her hand on her husband's arm, Princess Gwen Elise Hamato didn't think it would ever get old.

**ALMOST DONE!!!! WHOO-HOOO!**

**NOW REVIEW! I COMMAND YOU!!**


	47. Something Borrowed

**And voila. Here comes the Mikey! Here comes the Mikey!**

Chapter 46

Something Borrowed

Zoey was busily bouncing around her bedroom, chanting, _"I'm getting married I'm getting married I'm getting married…"_

Her bridesmaids and Matron of Honor were busy chasing after her, trying to stuff her in her wedding dress.

"Damnit, Zoey!" Julietta finally burst out. "If you want to get married in those stupid pajamas just tell us so we can stop friggin' chasing you!"

"Huh?" said the bride, pausing to stand on her bed. "What about my pajamas?"

"You need to change out of them to get married," Angela panted, hanging onto the bed as she tried to catch her breath.

Zoey looked shocked. "It's time to get into my dress already?"

"Weren't you listening at all while we were yelling at you?" Gwen demanded.

She blinked several times. "Huh?"

"Oh Lord, give me strength!" Evelina groaned even as she swung her cane at Zoey's knees.

The assorted servants, princesses, and one elderly Gypsy dove on the downed young woman and proceeded to drag her through her bath and toilette. There was her dress to put on, her hair to do, her jewelry to be put on, her makeup applied and her veil to be pinned on.

And then repinned when it kept falling off.

And then came the all important talk between the bride and her bridesmaids and matron.

"You've got something old?" Julietta asked, rubbing her stomach.

"These earrings," she said, shaking her head to make the accessories swing.

"Something new?" Gwen asked.

"My dress," she sang, twirling to see her graceful tulle skirt rise up around her body and then float slowly back down like mist.

"Something blue?" Angela asked, pulling on a sandal.

"My underwear," she giggled, starting to bounce in her high-heeled sandals.

"Something borrowed?"

She triumphantly opened her mouth, and then snapped it closed with a look of confusion. "Ummmm…no?"

Instant horror.

"What?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Does anyone have anything she could borrow?"

There was a stampede to find something to give the young bride that wouldn't completely clash with her outfit.

"What about this?"

"That's orange!"

"So? I like orange!"

"But your dress doesn't," Julietta snapped, snatching away the rejected ribbon.

"Ummm… your Highness?" whispered a slightly dusty young woman. Her name was Teresa, a lovely young woman, who worked as a nurse in the Royal Hospital and had been abducted by Mrs. Manley to help out with the weddings.

"Yes?" Zoey asked, trying to keep her veil from sliding over one eye.

"I have a bracelet that I was going to wear today. It's not as elegant as anything you're wearing… but I think it's rather pretty and it might match…"

"Well, let's see it!" Zoey giggled, leaning forward with interest.

The shy girl extended her hand to show off a very graceful silver bracelet that was designed to slide up and down one's arm but never slide off.

"It's perfect!" breathed Gwen, staring at it from over Zoey's shoulder.

"I couldn't take this!" the young woman said, shaking her head so vehemently that her veil literally slid down her face to her chin.

"Yes, you can!" Teresa burst out. Her pretty chocolate brown cheeks turned pink but she hurried on. "I would be honored if a Princess of Rosacaea wore my best piece of jewelry to her wedding! Won't you please just wear it for one night?"

Zoey frowned – it looked strange on her usually cheerful face – "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

The bride chewed her bottom lip for a moment before beaming and hugging the timid young woman and declaring, "Alright! But you have to let me set you up with someone!"

Teresa's quiet smile turned into a look of pure horror. "What?!"

"Why don't we take care of that?" Angela offered, jumping in. "You have enough to worry about today."

"No way!" she laughed. "I said I'd do it and I will!"

"Well, at least let us help," Gwen insisted, glancing at the horrified look on Teresa's face. "Teresa saved us all a lot of panic."

"Okie-dokie!"

***********************************

Mikey beamed at his new bride. She was easily the greatest thing he had ever seen. Her auburn curls hung freely down her back and both her veil and the glittering crown on her head were slightly lopsided. Her dress was the strangest thing he had seen any of the girls wear, but it was also the best – at least in his opinion.

It was slick on her torso, with a line of elegant beaded embroidery that stretched along the top of her bodice and then made a vertical, shining line right down her front. Her skirt was a glorious mess of white and gold sheer silk that puffed out from around her hips and fell all the way to the ground.

Big diamond earrings brushed her neck beneath her bright hair and a graceful bracelet hung from her slender wrist.

"Beautiful!" he said, beaming at her. "You are so beautiful, Princess Z!"

She gave that smile of hers, the one that made it feel like there was a bubble war going on in his stomach. He loved her.

"C'mon, you guys!" Julietta called from where she was standing with Raph and the couple Casey Jones and April O'Neil. "Cut the damn cake already!"

"Can't you get those hormones of yours under control?" Angela asked, from her own place with Leo, Donny, and Gwen.

"We're in the same boat now, sweetie pie!" the Gypsy scoffed. "Or don't you remember?"

Angela's pale cheeks went pink as her hand went to her stomach.

"Cut the cake already!"

Leatherhead stepped forward, leaving the fascinating young woman the princesses had introduced him to, and offered the golden wedding knife to Prince Michelangelo. As soon as the groom took the gleaming utensil, the other went straight back to his new lady-friend Teresa.

Taking the knife, the newlyweds cut into the giant wedding cake. Then, taking a piece each, they looked deep into each others' eyes and –

Jammed the pieces into each other's faces.

******************************

"Ladies and gentlemen!" King Splinter cried out, laughing. "Your princes and princesses!"

It was the next day. The first day of the era of the Four Princes and Four Princesses. Prince Leonardo and his lovely wife Angela. Prince Raphael and his princess Julietta. Prince Donatello with Lady Gwen. And now Prince Michelangelo and his pretty bride Zoey.

Three hours later found the royal couples reclining on their sky gazing hill.

"Everything's going to change, isn't it?" Gwen asked from where she sat hand in hand with Donny.

"Probably," Leo said.

"But not us," Zoey put in. "We're still the same."

"Kinda," Julietta chuckled, rubbing her slightly curved stomach tenderly.

"We're together," Donny said. "That's all that matters."

"We did beat that Shredder's sorry ass, didn't we?" Raph pointed out. "Everything else should be a piece of cake."

"Please don't mention cake," Angela moaned. "I won't be able to _look_ at another cake until my birthday!"

This was met with a burst of happy laughter.

***************************

And somewhere, beyond the realm of the living, where the world of dreams and immortality collide, in a beautiful garden, eight men and women sprawled in the sunshine.

"It's finally over," Sir Brian said.

"Thank goodness," agreed his wife, Lady Christine.

"Ya did good, Tori," Chief Gianni said to his wife.

Vittoria didn't bother to open her eyes. "I know."

"What happens now?" Mary Brass wondered.

"Life, I suppose," John Brass guessed.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" David Walker asked.

"Hey, they've got our blood and Master Splinter's teaching," Rachel Sweet giggled. "They'll be just fine."

"_And so we have been…"_

**Home Stretch! MUST... pant... KEEP GOING!!!**

**Review, faithful readers! Review like the wind!**


	48. Epilogue: The End

**SOB!!! It's over! I never thought this day would come!!!**

Epilogue

"_The end," Princess Zoey finished up. "Did you like your story, Danielle?"_

_Little Princess Danielle happily nodded. "Uh-huh!"_

"_And what about the rest of you?"_

_There was an immediate outpouring of happy approval from the young princes and princesses and their parents all seated around the fire place where Zoey was seated with Danielle in her lap._

"_What happened after that?" Danielle asked._

"_Well," Zoey said, leaning back. "After a few more months we got a letter from Lady Karai over here, saying she had married Lord Akito."_

"_Wasn't he the one who got locked inside the grandfather clock?" asked a solemn faced little boy._

"_Yes, Adam. Of course, by this time Julietta and Angela were too pregnant to go anywhere and we could only send Mr. Leatherhead and his new wife Teresa in our places. And a couple months after that, Mr. Casey married Miss April, but the wedding ended a little early because of Alessa."_

_A little Gypsy girl sitting on her father, Raph's, knee, turned her great golden eyes onto her aunt. "How'd I ruin the wedding?"_

"_You didn't ruin it!" April objected from where she was sitting on the sofa. "The party was almost over already when your mother went into labor with you."_

"_Twelve horrible hours," Julietta and Raph chorused as one._

"_Not that I regret one second," the Gypsy woman said quickly, ruffling her daughter's dark curls. "You were worth it, amor."_

"_And a few months after Alessa was born, a little baby boy named Adam was born to Prince Leo and Princess Angie," Zoey grinned brightly at the little boy sitting at his father's feet. "And not too long after that Master Splinter declared that he was abdicating the throne and leaving it to Prince Leonardo and his lovely wife Princess Angela. So they were both crowned King and Queen and declared that the line of inheritance would follow through the eldest of Master Splinter's grandchildren. Which means you're the future Queen, Lessi."_

"_Do I have to?" was the expected complaint from Princess Alessa daughter of his highness Prince Raphael and his wife Princess Julietta._

"_And everything after that you all know already. Mr. Casey became Steward of the Kingdom, Mr. Leatherhead is the head of the University under Uncle Donnie, and Miss April and Teresa are the Head Librarians of the Royal Libraries."_

"_You tell one hell of a story, Zoe," Julietta grinned from her perch on the arm of Raph's armchair._

"_What's going on here?" Old Master Splinter, more bent and wrinkled than ever, appeared at the doorway._

"_Grandpa!"_

"_I was just telling the kids how us moms met their dads."_

"_That is quite a story."_

"_It shuu was!" piped up Danielle's little brother David._

_There was a moment of silence before Lady Angela stood. "Well, since the story is over, it is time for all good little boys and girls to go to bed!"_

"_Not just yet, if you don't mind," Master Splinter said, hobbling in on his cane._

_A scramble arose as Raph and Julietta vacated the armchair, uprooting several of their children in the process to free up a chair for the elderly king._

"_Thank you," Splinter said graciously, sinking into the chair with a sigh. "Please just carry on, all of you. I want to enjoy a few minutes in everyone's company before we head off to bed."_

_So for the next fifteen minutes, there was a babble of happy talk as King Splinter smiled around at his great and beloved family._

_He did not regret handing the country over to Leonardo and Angela. He was too old to run a country; better to leave it in young and capable hands._

_The king and queen of Rosacaea were in deep discussion with Lady Karai and her husband Lord Akito, their honored guest from the land across the sea, about trade routes while their children, Adam, Ariel and Lucas played with their friends and cousins._

_Raphael and Julietta were now sprawled in front of the fire, looking more like teenagers than the Lord General and Lady Warrior of the Realm. Their eldest child, Alessa, was busy breaking up her younger brothers Raphael, Matteo, and the two year old twins Luciano and Sabino from a fight with Karai's son Ryuu, and the Steward's two boys Zachary and William Jones. "That's enough!" she was snarling. "Stop acting like idiots, all of you!"_

"_Boys!" barked Julietta, Karai and April as one._

_The sound of their mother's stern voices, not to mention the angry gaze of the girl before them, sent the seven boys scowling to their knees._

_Donatello and Gwen's two children, Jonathon and Grace were sprawled on the floor with Mr. and Mrs. Jones' youngest child Allison, trying to figure out the Chief Inventor and his wife's newest creation while their parents looked on. A cube with three squares on each side and each little square was one of six colors. The trick was to get twist the cube around enough so that each side was only one color._

_Michelangelo and Zoey were devising their next book while David, their youngest, slept in his mother's lap. A little ways away, Danielle and her younger sister Abigail were playing three way patticake with Leatherhead's daughter Helen._

_His family. _

_Not by blood._

_But what did blood matter really?_

_Happily Ever After Indeed._

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my stories!!**

**Long live the TMNT!!!**

**Now give me one more rousing bit of reviews!!!!**


End file.
